


Just one more favor

by Ghostlaments



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Multi, minor alcohol use but so far no one gets drunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostlaments/pseuds/Ghostlaments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit."</p><p>When Sting drops this on Rogue, he doesn't know how to react. Sting is his friend since 5th grade. Of course he'll help him, but fake dating? </p><p>That can only end in disaster.</p><p>He agrees, with the assumption that it would only be one time. Anything for his best friend.</p><p>But as one favour turns to two, and outside forces begin to threaten their friends, Rogue begins to questions his feelings for his friend.</p><p>pretend relationship. hints of yukino/minerva and lucy/lisanna. College AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m coming out of my cage  
> And I’ve been doing just fine  
> Gotta gotta be down  
> Because I want it all
> 
> (how did it end up like this?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so self-indulgent. w/e  
> BEFORE WE BEGIN: I should mention I write super slowly (the fact that I'm posting this even tho I've only got two chapters is like. incredible.), I've got like tons of shit in my life and I just. Forget. I'll never drop this though because I can't do that lmao,, I need closure and dropping a fic feels like betrayal  
> I've never written Stingue but tbh I've never written anything BUT Fairy Tail so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ we'll see how it goes I guess
> 
> oh right, it's also a college au. Gotta love normal life AUs, amirite
> 
> let's get started before I type out the word limit
> 
> also lmao I'm adding song lyrics and or poetry i love music and poetry（ﾉ´∀`）

It starts with a party. Like usual, a party that Sting goes and shows off at. And like usual, Rogue stays home. He doesn't like parties.

  
Besides, it's Sting's group of friends, not Rogue's. He barely knows any of them, even when Sting brings one or two over.

  
He stays home to help yukino study for an upcoming test. Exponents, her weakness. It's better like this, just the two of them, than going to any party.

  
Sting teases him sometimes about the two of them: when are you getting together, oooh, lovebirds, I think Yukino liiiiiikes you! But Rogue doesn't like Yukino and he knows that she doesn't like him, so it doesn't matter what Sting says. There was that one incident, but if anything was going to happen, it would've already. Nothing did, so they stay as study buddies. Besides, he thinks she has something for that blondie, the one Sting knows.

  
But that was an hour ago. Yukino has little stamina for staying up, so she left early (early for Rogue, anyway). She tells rogue to go to bed early for once, to get some sleep. He waves her off, assuring that he'll go to bed soon, even if they have different definitions of 'soon'.

  
He's not going to sleep until Sting comes home.

  
It's not that he's worried about Sting, not in the slightest. Sting can take care of himself, he's proven that once or twice. Badly proven it, but proven it nonetheless. The reason he stays awake is because he can't sleep when Sting comes home. It's pointless.

  
He'll go to bed, nice and cozy, and doze off, only to be awaken by Sting, drunk as shit, banging into _literally everything_ as he finds his way inside.

  
or Sting, drunk as shit, throwing up in the middle of the kitchen, and _oh god Sting can't you hold it the bathroom is right there!_

  
Or Sting, drunk as _shit_ , literally _wailing_ like a _dying fucking cat_ , outside Rogue's window because he can't find his way into the dorm.

  
So no. No sleeping for Rogue. Besides, studying. It's important. Rogue would like to keep his grades up, after all.

  
At around ten, he stops studying, and turns to putting on the tv. The sound makes nice background noise (a good distraction from the silence left by his usually loud roommate). He watches it for a solid twenty minutes before jumping up with a bang, wanting to eat.

  
He wanders into the kitchen, to make a very late dinner. Frosch hops in after him. Frosch always hopped. The vet said there's nothing wrong with him, but it's still strange to see a cat hop almost every where it went. Frosch the Frog, Rouge called him sometimes.

  
Smiling softly, he pulls a Kraft Dinner out of the cupboard. The shit is crap, but it's easy to make. As he stirs the mixture in a pot, he looks around absentmindedly for his partner's cat, Lector. Where was that cat? He had been missing for hours now. Where does a cat go for hours in a small dorm-room?

  
…ah, whatever. He'd turn up eventually. He always did.

  
Much like his owner.

  
He sits at the counter, waiting for the shitty KD to cool and scratching frosch's chin. Did Minerva go to the party? He vaguely remembers Sting asking if she wanted to come, but he also remembers Minerva scoffing and saying something degrading about Fairy Tail. Probably not then.

  
Maybe he'll give her a call, if she's awake? She's pretty angry lately and Rogue isn't sure he wants to handle that. Not since her father…

  
he waves the thought away.

  
About an hour later, Rouge's trying to watch one of those creepy mystery cases (where it's really not that scary at all, but the soundtrack and the lighting make it unnecessarily spooky) when his cell phone goes off. It's Sting. Rouge ignores it the first time it goes off, rolling his eyes. Sting probably wants a ride. He settles back onto the couch, eyes glued to but not _really_ paying attention to the screen.

The phone rings again. Huffing, Rouge picks it up, scowling at the screen.

  
"I'm not giving you a ride, Sting."

  
"What? No." Sting's voices rings through, sounding echoey. Where is he? There's music and voices in the background. "Rouge, listen, I need a favour."

  
"I said I'm not giving you a ride."

  
"It's not a ride! I need you do something for me." Sting sounds nervous. He's close to stuttering, actually. For a moment, Rouge hesitates, contemplating saying no. Sting's ideas rarely end up well, after all.

  
"What is it?"

  
There's a long silence. Just as Rouge opens his mouth, or better yet, hang up, Sting butts in again. "Nevermind, Rouge. It's nothing, I've gotta go, bye!"

  
And just like that, he's gone. The phone beeps when Sting hangs up, to fully alert Rouge.

  
_Is he drunk?_ Rouge wonders, frowning as he puts the phone down. God, what was that idiotic roommate of his thinking? What did he want now?

  
Sting is going to call again, he thinks. Sting isn't one to let things go, and he definitely needed something. He waits ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour.

  
Sting doesn't call again.

  
It's midnight when Rouge tries (and fails) to pick up his book and study again. Still no sign from Sting. He should be coming back soon, because although it's a weekend, he can't afford to fuck up his sleep schedule badly(As he's voiced many times to rouge: "I need my beauty sleep").

  
Offhandedly, he notices how cold it is. Late November, no matter how late, isn't usually this chilly. At least his dorm should be warm enough for a T-shirt!

  
November…

  
_Our second year._ Rouge smiles at the thought of being almost halfway through his education. And knowing he's been through it so long with Sting, well…

  
The fact they got into the same college is both a blessing and a curse. You'd think being in highschool and middle school together would be enough, but you'd be wrong. Honestly—

  
The door slams open.

  
Rouge's head snaps to Sting, and then to the clock. "It's 1:15!" He snaps, glaring questioningly at Sting, who looks kind of out of breath. "Did you run home? More importantly, are you drunk?"

  
"What? No, I'm sober. Cana drank everything before I arrived." He makes a face like _sadly, I'm not drunk_ , and scurries to the kitchen. "Is there left over KD?" He pronounces the K and D in one syllable, so it sounds more like kid.

  
Rogue nods and Sting grabs a spoon and the entire pot, then comes to sit on the couch.

  
"So listen," he says, mouth full of mac and cheese. "I do still need your help."

  
Oh god, Rogue thinks with a grimace. "With what?" he asks wearily. Sting swallows and shovels more into his mouth. "Uh, a bet. I might have said some untrue things, and now they're going to let Bob from the Blue Pegasus soccer team kiss me. Kissing, Rogue! He is _old_ , and _ugly_ , and _creepy_ , and he smells like _decaying bodies._  Please don't let me die."

  
"jesus christ." Rogue says in monotone. "Are you sure you aren't drunk? How did you agree to that?"

  
Sting flushes angrily. "I'm sober. Please help me with this. Rogue, buddy, my bro, my dude, my…brude,"

  
Rogue sighs. "What is it? I should at least know what it is." He looks expectantly at Sting, who hesitates. "Come on," Rogue urges him on. "You have to tell me."

  
"I know, I got that," Sting snaps back lightly. "Fine! I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want this is be long and stressful on these two so expect at least Ten Chapters And Probably More
> 
> In canon this would be just after GMG right before Minerva goes haywire
> 
> Anyway after like 2 years I'm finally posting actual stories so hopefully I've improved haha
> 
> I'm thinking to follow the canon a little bit and have Minerva go off the tracks? Not sure how to execute it tho
> 
> tell me what you think! It's been such a long time so I'm excited to hear any kind of response.


	2. Out of the pot, into the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m coming out of my cage  
> And I’ve been doing just fine  
> Gotta gotta be down  
> Because I want it all
> 
> (how did it end up like this?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite a chunk because it was spiralling into angst and we can't have that yet
> 
> To everyone that's commented or left kudos, bookmarked, w/e: ;-; I Love You. You guys give me motivation. srsly tho aaaaaa

  
"What the fuck? Tell me I heard you wrong." Rogue slams his hands on the table. Of all the stupid ideas Sting's dragged him into, this has to be the worse. 

"It's one time! One date, I'll do anything in return, I swear! I swear on Minerva beating my ass!" Sting's hands snap up to his face in a prayer. A plead. A beg.

Rogue storms out the dorm, slamming the door for good measure. Sting watches him leave, and contemplates chasing after him. 

He doesn't though, not yet.

•••

"I'm leaving! See you guys later!" 

Sting turned back from where he was sitting to wave off the small blue-haired girl. He didn't know her personally, but the way everyone smirked when she even mentioned the name 'Gajeel', well…

"Is she dating Redfox then?" He settled back around, to the remaining people. Natsu Dragneel, a few years older than Sting himself and the reason he's apart of this group. Lucy Heartfilia, Natsu's best friend and roommate, currently stretched across him and Gray Fulbuster. Latter was Natsu's rival and best friend. Kind of a weird squad.

There was also the scary figure of Erza Scarlet, but she wasn't there that night. Definitely a weird group.

Apparently no one heard him, or ignored him. Sting huffed. The music was too loud.

He didn't notice Wendy until she was right in front of him, offering snacks. He jumped. "Jesus, kid, don't scare me like that!"

She dipped her head, apologizing almost immediately. He balked, unsure on how to react. This was awkward. Oh god. Help? Desperately, he turned to Lucy, but she was already on it. "Heyy, Wendy, don't worry about him, you can't hurt a fly. C'mere, I'd like a chip." Wendy tottered over and held out the bag, from which Lucy gratefully took a handful, and then the entire thing. "Hey, can you be a babe and turn the music down a bit? The neighbours will flip if we don't."

Wendy nodded, took a last look at Sting, and bolted.

"She's scared of me and not Gajeel?" He frowned. "Who invited the pipsqueak anyway?"

"That 'pipsqueak' just entered high school, you fucking dumbass." Natsu replied. Lucy dug her elbows into his thighs. Natsu yelped and shut his mouth. "Two for swwearring," Lucy sang, giggling. She was borderline drunk, or completely wasted. Sting couldn't tell which, but kind of wished he was either.

"Anyway," Lucy continued, "her mom is like, neverr around, like your dad and Natsu's. So why not let her hang around here? Not like she's _that_ innocent. Ppplease" —here, she made a _ppppbt_ sound before sounding the full word— "and isn't she just the cutest thing? Waah, I love her sooooo much!"

Sting rolled his eyes. "Still doesn't explain why she'd rather hang out with Gajeel than with me."

"She doesn't _know_ you," Lucy explained, fingerr high in the air. "And he's usually with Levy, who Wendy actually gets along with. Until you…I dunno, start towing Chelia around with you, you and Wendy won't go anywhere fast." She made a sad whistle resembling something going down and crash-landed her hand into Gray. Gray swatted her hand away angrily.

Sting laughed. "Levy is dating Piercings, then?" He repeated his question.

Gray shrugged. "Maybe? They won't let anything slip. Could be making out at her place as we speak. Could actually hate eachother. We can't tell." He got a look on his face. "Though, for him, to get a date, let alone a soft girl like Levy…magics, man. No way I believe it."

"Why's that?" Natsu snapped back. "Because you can't get a date for the life of you?"

Gray flushed a dark red. "I could! They're a lot of work, though."

"Please, the only one you can get is the creepy blue haired girl."

"There's nothing wrong with Juvia!"

"Boys, babies, relax. All of us are lonely," Lucy interjected, pushing their faces apart. She sat up between the two of them and wrapped her arms around them, squeezing their heads together. "Like Erza says, let's all be happy happy friendly friendly! Besides, none of us have any kind of partner in this place."

"I don't think Erza has ever said that ever," Natsu grumbled, muffled in Lucy's death grip.  
  
"Hey!" Sting snapped up without quite thinking his actions through. "I'm not lonely! Don't lump me in with you guys."

"Oh?" Lucy smiled, her laid-back, over-affectionate aura gone. "Is that so, Sting-Kun?"

There was the way she rolled his name around that made him very nervous.

"I don't know, Sting," Natsu added on. He and Gray had struggled free and Lucy was back to lying on their laps. "I've never seen your…date."

Sting scowled. "Want me to call him?"

"Oh, yes, give your boyfriend a call," Gray grinned. Sting's scowled deepened and he whipped out his phone, scrolling desperately through his phone. His big mouth! Yukino, Yukino, where was her contact? she'd play along for him—shit, wait, he'd said "him". Gray had replied "boyfriend". Dammit.

His finger hesitated above Rouge's contact. Wishing he was drunk for this, he hit call. "It's quieter in the bathroom!" He explained loudly, and sprinted for the half-bath across the room before anyone could react.

Upon entering the bathroom, Sting promptly locked himself in, putting his full weight on the door. The phone rang, once, twice, three times. Sting could hear his heartbeat pump faster with each one. Then, finally, a voicemail.

"Rogue, come on!" Sting hissed as he stabbed the end button without bothering to leave a message. Rogue was there. He was ignoring him. He wouldn't just leave his phone unattended. Angrily, he pressed call again.

"I'm not giving you a ride."

Sting huffed into the phone, feeling even more irritated. "What? no." He felt his anger slide away suddenly, replaced by sheer nervousness. "Rogue, listen, I need a favour." he managed. He felt cold, and tried to bring back the hot anger that just filled him. Oh jeez, what was happening?

"I said I'm not giving you a ride."

"It's not a ride! I need you do something for me," he blurted out in a rush. His hand was shaking. For fuck's sake, what was happening to him? Rogue's his friend. His _best friend_. His _best friend of at least 7 years._ Something like this should be easy, not nerve-racking.

"What is it?"

Sting opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He heard a bang at the door and almost yelped. Quickly, he hit mute. "Yea?"

Gray's voice filtered through. "Lucy's thought of a better way for you to…'prove you're non-singleness'…or however she put it. She wants you to come back, now."

Sting inwardly groaned. Oh god.

Unmute.

"Nevermind, Rouge. It's nothing, I've gotta go, bye!" He whispered quickly into the phone, and ended it before Rogue could respond.

Sting unlocked the door to find Gray waiting, eyebrows raised. "Let's go, I-Call-My-Boyfriend-In-the-Bathroom," he mocked, leading Sting back to the living room. Sting followed, his gut twisting. Calling Rogue and asking him on the spot would have ended badly no matter what, but he couldn't help but feel that whatever Lucy had planned next was going to be much, much worse.

_Out of the pot, into the fire._

_Why am I so cold?_ He wondered as a shiver ran down the length of his body.

Lucy was sprawled across the entire couch when Sting came back in. Natsu was nowhere to be seen, which worried Sting for reasons he couldn't explain. Sure, he had looked up to Natsu in his last years of highschool, and Natsu had introduced him to this new group of friends, but he was fine without him, with a drunk Lucy…right? Right?

Oh jeez. She was eying him like prey. He was certain her eyes hadn't left him since he came into view. As casually as he could, he settled down in the chair across from her. "So…uh…where's Natsu?"

"Chips," she waved her hand like it explained everything. "Don't try to rebound the s-situ-situation!"

"How drunk are you?" Sting squinted at her. "I'm pretty sure the word isn't rebound."

"Not very." Natsu had returned with two bags of chips. He handed one to Lucy, who gleefully ripped into it. "There was one time, Lucy was really drunk. I think we had only known her for a year? That was bad." He shuddered visibly and Sting had to wonder what she did to make Natsu so on-edge. He looked to Gray, who just shook his head. _Don't ask._

"Listen!" Lucy snapped, clapping her hands together loudly. Sting jumped. "Sting. You've told us you have a boyfriend. We don't believe you." To that, Natsu and Gray shook their heads solemnly. "I propose this: you take your boyfriend on a movie date, and we'll just-so-happen to be watching the same movie." She giggled. In any other context, it would have been cute, adorable even.

Sting shuddered. "When?"

Lucy smiled blankly at him. Obviously, she hadn't thought into some of the details.

"Next Saturday. That gives you a full week." Gray had moved and was standing beside Natsu. The two were behind Lucy's couch, dark eyes narrow and dangerous-looking. Almost like…bodyguards. Bodyguards to a beautiful and powerful queen.

Sting realized with a sinking feeling that if Lucy was a queen, he was a criminal on trial, waiting his beheading.

 _Get a grip_ , he told himself, shaking off his imaginary shackles. Whatever Lucy has planned can't be as bad as a medieval punishment. "That's it? Just the movie date? What it doesn't happen?"

Lucy's eyes abruptly lit up, like fire. "You're familiar with the Blue Pegasus soccer team, right?"

"Yea, the boys who are only soccer players to get popular with the college girls?" Gray added, snickering.

Lucy raised an arm to swat at him and missed, terribly. "Shut it Gray! I'm talking. Natsuuuuuu, punch Gray for me."

"Gladly." Natsu cracked his knuckles. Immediately, the apartment was filled with the sounds of fighting as the two began to brawl. Sting watched them tumble into the kitchen before turning back to Lucy.

"Blue Pegasus. What, you want me to join them?" This was not looking good.

"Hm. That would hilarious. No. You know their coach, Master Bob?"

There was cold sweat running down Sting's neck. "That guy is creepy."

"I know," Lucy laughed. "That's why this is perfect. He likes you, you know. Thinks you're cute. So! If you don't have a boyfriend by next Saturday, I'm going to let Bob have one kiss from you. It's only one, but I heard he likes to hug people when he kisses them. Sound like a deal, Sting-kun?"

•••

Rogue thinks he should've left the building, at least. Find Rufus, or even Orga. Someone who isn't Sting. He should've taken off on a bus to downtown, just to show Sting he Isn't Interested. Instead, here he is, sitting in the empty cafe down the hallway, waiting for Sting to inevitably come and convince him.

He grips his styrofoam cup harder. Here comes Sting, marching towards him, stern-faced. Rogue raises his eyebrows; Sting's lopsided grin hardly leaves his features. Is he really that desperate about this?

Sting comes to a halt across the table from Rogue and sits himself down. He clears his throat, once, twice, and then opens his mouth. "Pleaaaasseeeeee?"

"Sting, no."

"Pretty fucking please?"

"No Sting."

Sting sighs. "Anything you want, Rogue, I'll do it. It's just one date, and then I can tell them we broke up because it wasn't working out. That it was ruining the deep childhood bond we have."

"Why don't you go back and beg for forgiveness instead?" Rogue says, but doesn't really mean it. He's already thinking up seven different ways Sting can pay him back. If it's just one date, how bad can it be?

He makes the mistake of looking at Sting's bright eyes and suddenly feels trapped by them. Although Sting constantly looks in other directions, Rogue feels like he's always, _always_ being watched. Sting's attention is fully on him. It's unnerving.

"Ro-gue! I'll even pay for the movie! I'll make you coffee every morning for one, two weeks, just pleaseee—"

"Fine, fine! Just one date," Rogue cuts him off loudly. "One date, you're paying, and coffee for two weeks." He breaks eye contact, standing with his drink. "I'm going to bed. Don't be noisy when you come in or I'm going back on my favour."

He stands and walks away, leaving Sting at the small cafe table, who immediately buries his head with a loud breath of relief. _Oh thank god, oh thank god._

Of course Rogue will say yes — Sting's been wearing him down like this for years- he knows how to wear Rogue down fastest, and direct eye contact is one of them.

But oh…he feels his face heat up. God, direct eye contact with Rogue…Rogue and his deep red eyes…fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

why rogue why rogue why rogue why rogue why rogue why rogue why rogue why rogue why

Why couldn't he fall in love with a pretty girl like Lucy? Why couldn't he date a nice girl like Yukino who would definitely like him back because girls like a confident boy like Sting but _Rogue doesn't._

 _But this can't be a real crush,_ Sting reasons. _Who just falls for their best friend in high school like some dumb overused cliche?_ Besides, there's no reasoning for it either. He's never been attracted to any other guy ever. (Or girl, for that matter. Not important.) He probably only likes the deep bond they have, or how pretty rogue's eyes are, or how deep and smooth his voice is all the time, or how his face seems to light up around cats, or how gentle he really is, or, or…

Sting launches himself to his feet. He's going to use this date to get to the bottom of the crush, and get rid of it. He's not going to let his stupid feelings get in the way of his deep friendship with Rogue! Whatever.

When he gets back inside the room, all the lights are off. So Rogue was serious about going to bed. Sting silently pulls off his shoes and gently pads to his own room. Inside, he finds Lector hiding under the bed. The cat mews loudly to greet him and Sting hushes him quickly. He pulls off his clothes and climbs into bed, suddenly aware of how exhausted he is.

 •••

Sunday passes by without incident, as Rogue is out of town, visiting Gajeel's place to take of his cat, Lily, since Gajeel is on a trip for two weeks.

It gives time for sting to wallow in the mess he's made. After all, this can only end badly. Sure! Maybe he'll get to pretend Rogue is his boyfriend, and he can say "I love you" to him without him ever realizing — a dream come true! — but what happens after the date is over? How can he look at Rogue again without his face turning red or wishing they could go on a _real date?_

Or oh…if Rogue finds out…

Sting mentally slaps himself. Overthinking things will be his death. He'll get through, somehow. He's Sting Eucliffe, after all! He's been through worse!

Right?

Monday also passes without any mention of the deal they struck up, because both are swamped with school-work. Tuesday evening, Rogue slams Sting's door open with a determined (but completely red) face.

"We have to practice," he declares.

"We have to what?" Sting stares at him from his phone, confused. He grins playfully when he sees how flustered rogue looks. "Rogue-kun, why are you so red? Could it be, you're embarrassed about our date?"

"Eat a plunger," Rogue snaps back. "If we don't do this right, they'll see through us, and I'm not risking the chance of being dragged down with you." He plants himself on the bed beside Sting. "And it'll go down in flames if we can't even hold hands like a proper couple."

"Hold hands?" Sting echoes, feeling his heart jump. This is bad. Rogue moves closer, and he stifles a yelp when his roommate grabs his hand suddenly. "Rogue, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" He twists his fingers until they're interlocked with Sting's. "We're practicing being a couple so Saturday isn't a disaster." He rubs Sting's thumb with his own absentmindedly. "Wow, your hands are really warm. Could it be that you're embarrassed?" He smirks up at him.

Sting feels a rush of heat to his face. Of course he's embarrassed. _Two can play at this,_ he thinks angrily.

"Well, if we're practicing, we should probably give eachother pet names, hmm, muffin cakes?"

Rogue's face twists up. "That's a ridiculous name, bugaboo," he manages.

"I think it's cute! Don't you like it, sweetie-poo?"

"I think it'll blow your cover completely, mon cherie."

"Of course not, honey-bunches-of-oats." Sting grins. He's enjoying this, actually. Even if he's not sure what mon cherie means.

Rogue snickers. "Whatever you say, light of my life," he says. which isn't even a very good one (have any of them been?) but it's enough to make Sting turn red and stammer when he calls Rogue 'Babe' as a poor retort. Rogue blushes at it anyway.

"I think I'm winning," he tells Sting, who's kind of burying his face in his hands.

"No way," Sting grumbles. He inhales deeply then points his finger at Rogue. "That was only pet names. You know real couples—" he scoots closer on the bed. Rogue instinctively pulls back, but not far. "—look into each others eyes a lot."

"Oh," Rogue replies, so quiet it's hardly a whisper.

They're only centimetres away from each other, eyes locked. Sting's almost on top of Rogue, turned angle with his hand just past Rogue's hips, but he won't look away from Rogue's eyes, no matter how much it's making him squirm.

This is ridiculous. Sting hardly competes with Rogue over anything. They're always on the same team for everything. Even when they got separated playing sports — Sting would sneak onto Rogue's team until the teachers stopped trying to split them up. And here they are, competing for arguably the worse reason. What's the goal, anyway? Whoever backs down first? Whoever gets the most flustered?

He's so distracted he doesn't notice Rogue's hand snaking around his waist until he physically pulls Sting _into his lap._ "Real couples cuddle too, Sting," he says, his voice low.

Sting stares at him for a full three seconds, processing what he just did. Then, three things happen at once:

1\. His face turns so red he wonders for half a second if it's on fire,  
2\. He yells "Rogue you have to leave _right now immediately_ ",  
3\. and ejects himself out of Rogue's lap and across the bed in a flurry of limbs.

"Did I win?" Rogue asks, hand on his face where he thinks Sting kicked him. his voice is innocent. He's probably stunned from being kicked in the face.

" _Yes_ ," Sting chokes out, head buried in the bed sheets. " _Get out of here._ "

Rogue obliges, but Sting hears him laughing as he closes the door.

He's going to die on Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just finished Haikyuu!! so I might be subconsciously projecting Oikawa onto Sting  
> I'll watch gmg again and fix that lmaooooo  
> (Suga and Oikawa r my favs tho……I love them)


	3. like a river flows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (surely to the sea)  
> Rogue begins to settle with his new predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALMOST A MONTH LATE SCREAM I'M SORRY
> 
> happy july fourth for u crazy americans I'm a canadian so it's not CRAZY here but enjoy ur festivals
> 
> I tend to swap povs as I feel, but it should be a fairly consistent swap every chapter. I hope this chapter isn't too confusing tho!
> 
> I haven't been to college. I have no idea what it's like. Pls forgive me.
> 
>  
> 
> (I am this close to adding a poem by lostcap for every chapter but my story is HAPPY and their poetry is beautifully sad)

To say Sting is nervous is an understatement. Since the incident on Tuesday, his nerves have been a mess. He can't properly look Rogue in the face anymore, and he's worried that it shows.  
  
Rogue, on the other hand, is fine. Or he seems that way to Sting, but he also knows that Rogue is an expert on keeping his emotions under a neutral expression, so he has no idea if rogue is affected at all. Sting hopes he is, he decides.   
  
Which is why he hopes Rogue is also blushing red at the fact that the two of them are in the kitchen, _holding hands._   
  
"Sting," Rogue rummages through the fridge with a free hand. “Do we have any more eggs?” He's not really looking for a reply, though. He hasn’t any eggs after five minutes of searching, so it's slightly pointless to ask.

 

“Rogue,” Sting replies slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tell me again, why are we holding hands?” His voice almost gives away to a higher note near the end and he shuts his mouth so not to embarrass himself.

 

Rogue regards him for a second. “Because we need to practice for Saturday? If you can’t even act natural while holding hands, this date is going to crash and burn.” He says it with no dominant tone in his voice, like a fact. Like it was the most logical statement. He moves to the cupboards to scope out what they have. Find something for lunch. Their kitchen is pretty bare. They need to go shopping.

 

Truthfully, Rogue himself is a little surprised. He's surprised because he's not bothered by holding hands with Sting. Sting’s hand, he finds, is very warm, and shockingly comfortable. It's a bit bigger than Rogue’s own, and rougher too. Stronger. He can probably crush Rogue’s fingers if he squeezes hard enough, but he's barely holding on.

 

It's only a simple observation. Rogue hasn't held many hands. Maybe when he was younger, but none he remembers. Sting’s hand-holding, although simple, seems strangely…intimate?

  


Rogue twitches his fingers just a bit in a sudden rush of embarrassment and feels Sting’s hand tense. He immediately gets irritated. Sting talked him into this, he shouldn't be the one uncomfortable! Peeved, he grips Sting’s hand tighter so Sting knows he can't wriggle away. Sting’s hand (no, his entire arm) jolts, but he offers no resistance.

 

Rogue pulls out a box of old packaged chicken noodles. How long have they had this? He reads the expiry date. To his surprise (and slight disgust), it's still months from now.  He gives it an experimental shake and hands it to Sting. “Old noodles.” Sting nods tensely, pulling out a pot to cook it in.

 

Rogue only lets go of Sting’s hand when they sit to enjoy their nutritious meal of old noodles and fake powder flavouring.

 

“This isn't going to fill me up at all,” Sting complains, already shovelling seconds in bowl. Rogue _hmms_ in response, musing over his suddenly cold hand, which was holding sting’s. He's struck again by how _okay_ it was to hold Sting’s hand.

 

He glances at the time. His class starts in half an hour. Plenty of time to hang out with Sting, alone.

 

Kind of like last night.

 

“I have to head to class now, I'll see you later Sting!”

 

 

“You don't look so good Rogue,” Yukino notes as Rogue taps his pencil aggressively into his notebook. Rogue _hmms_ absentmindedly, without really listening. Yukino watches this. “Is it about Sting?”

 

“Why would it be about Sting?” Rogue replies, a bit _too_ quickly. Yukino smiles knowingly.

 

“Because you usually have to put up with Sting? He's what you complain about the most, you know.” She snorts. “ _Sting kept me up last night because he was drunk and wouldn't stop vomiting_ , or _Sting threw a party even though I told him I was studying_ , or _Sting caught a bird and it got free and now it's flying around our room please help—_ ”

 

“He is a pain in the ass, Yukino.” Rogue interrupts with a snap. Yukino giggles a bit more.

 

She slides a bit closer. “Seriously. What did he do this time?”

 

Rogue contemplates the likeliness of Yukino telling Lucy and blowing Sting’s cover. “If you don't tell a Fairy. Specifically any that know Sting. Especially not Lucy, Gray, or Natsu.”

 

Yukino’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no. I won't though!” she adds when Rogue narrows his eyes slightly.

 

Rogue huffs. “He told them he had a boyfriend and they didn't believe him so now I've got to pretend to be his bo– date for Saturday so he doesn't get smooched on by Bob from Blue Pegasus.” _Boyfriend_ leaves a weird feeling, so Rogue decides not to use that term. It feels very concrete.

 

“Yikes.” Yukino whistles.

 

“Yikes.” Rogue agrees.

 

They work in silence for a few minutes before Rogue leans over again. “I just don’t understand,” he taps his pencil, given up on listening to their professor for now. “Why I'm the one roped into it. Couldn't he have asked Rufus, or someone? You even?”

 

“Please not me,” Yukino says in a strained voice.

 

Rogue waves his hand. “ _Still_.”

 

“Well,” she replies, looking at him very thoughtfully, “would _you_ ask Rufus?”

 

Would he ask Rufus over Sting? “Of—” _of course_? He stops, suddenly very unsure.

 

There's something about this question. Something about it in the way Yukino said it — slowly, carefully — in the way she's looking at him _now_ , examining him with keen eyes. There has to be second meaning. What though?

 

Irritated, he taps his pen against the table throughout class until Yukino very pleasantly kicks him in the shin.

 

“You have psychology with Minerva after this, don’t you?” Yukino asks as they leave the lecture hall.

 

“Mm,” Rogue replies, taking to tapping his leg absentmindedly. “If she shows up.” Which was unlikely. Ever since her father… he switches thoughts. “why?”

 

Yukino sighs, pulling out her phone. “She hasn’t responded to my messages. Or my calls. Three days, Rogue.”

 

“You know she had to get a new phone right? After the Cave Incident.” Ah, the Cave Incident. Rogue can still hear the powerpuff theme song on repeat sometimes when he goes to bed.

 

Yukino flushes a pink colour and he knows she has the same mental image flashing through her brain. They all do. It’s never going away. _Ever_.

 

“Please don’t bring that back,” Yukino whimpers. “And I do have her new number, thank you very much!”

 

“Wow.” Rogue doesn’t even have her new number. Nor Sting. How did tiny little Yukino manage that? “So she’s ignoring you, what’s the big deal?” he offers Yukino a smirk and Yukino scowls at him, still pink in the face. Even more pink, if Rogue bothers to notice.

 

“Wha- Rogue, it’s _Minerva!_ You should _know_ \--”

 

“Yea, Yea, I know. I should go. I’ll see you later. I’ll text you if she’s there.” he waves Yukino a hasty goodbye (he really does have to get to class) and maneuvers through the halls teeming with other students.

 

It's no surprise when Minerva isn't there. Actually, it would've been a bigger surprise if she was. Minerva has never been one for doing things unless she could brutally put others to shame by doing it. Even with her father, she had a tendency to skip classes in high school to do ‘more important’ things.

 

“Rogue.” Rogue glances up at his professor as he enters the class. He’s not actually sure how this professor knows his name, to be honest. He’s not a very contributing student, but he guess he does well on tests.

 

“Yes?” making his way over to the professor’s desk, he notices a stack of empty boxes.

 

“Could you run an errand for me? It shouldn’t take long, you won’t miss anything in class you don’t already know. Just take these boxes to the library please. The public one. I said i’d give them back today. You can grab someone to help you, if you’d like. And the bus should be here in ten minutes, so you can take that.”

 

“Oh, sure, I guess,” Rogue gathers the boxes together. “And I think I’ll be okay by myself.”

 

“Thank you, Rogue,” his professor calls as he heads out the door.

 

The bus is ten minutes late, but it gives Rogue time to sort the boxes into a more efficient stack. He moves to the back of the bus since his stop is the last.

  


The library is pretty empty when he enters, with only a few people flittering in and out of the bookshelves. It’s nice, he decides. Very peaceful. He puts the books on the front desk and rings the desk bell once and waits.

 

It isn’t long before Yukino comes out and _hold on_ , because this girl isn’t Yukino but she looks pretty damn close. Same short-cropped snowy hair, bright blue eyes and light skin. Her nametag says Lisanna Strauss, though, so she can’t be related.

 

“What can I do for you?” she says cheerfully. Rogue gestures to the boxes.

 

“These are from my professor. She wanted me to return them. Um…” he trails off, unsure what else to add. Dang, she _really_ looks like Yukino.

 

Lisanna breaks into a smile. “Oh! I think you should take them upstairs. I’m not too sure where they go, I just started working here a month ago, but my sister should be able to help you. She’s in the nonfiction section.” She gestures to the stairs.

 

“Thanks…” Rogue nods, picks up his boxes again, and goes up the stairs. There is another girl at the desk up there, with longer, snowier hair. Mirajane. He’s seen her before. Why is she working in a library? He could’ve sworn she had another, better job.

 

“I have boxes from SaberTooth University,” Rogue asks uncertainly as he places his boxes down for the second time. Mirajane looks at him and smiles.

 

“Just leave them here,” she says. “These are from the Psychology teacher, right? Thank you for bringing them.”

 

“Right,” Rogue nods, and walks back down the stairs, although he wants to ask why _Mirajane_ is working in a _library_ and why she has a sister that looks like one of his best friends.

 

When he gets down the stairs, Lisanna is chatting animatedly with a blonde that Rogue knows from Sting’s friend group as Lucy Heartfilia and _shit that’s Lucy Heartfilia she’s the one who made the bet with Sting!_

 

He flies past them as quick as he can. He’s met Lucy because Sting has brought her and Natsu and Gray over and he _does not_ want to get caught up with her and potentially blow his and Sting’s cover.

 

She sees him. “Rogue! Fancy seeing you here!”

 

“Hey,” Rogue replies, edging towards the door. “I have to go, catch the bus.”

 

Lisanna blinks innocently at him. “It doesn’t come for six more minutes, you know.” She smiles, but Rogue can feel the wicked grin hiding underneath. _Is she doing this on purpose?_

 

“Anyway, I did want to talk to you,” Lucy closes the gap between them in an instant. “I need to ask you a question.”

 

Rogue grimaces. “Just one? I _am_ missing class…” he tries to back out the door again, but Lucy sticks her leg out and closes it with her foot.

 

“You’re roommates with Sting, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Rogue replies quickly, not liking where she was taking this.

 

She examines him, then snaps her fingers rather dramatically. Rogue is starting to feel like he’s in a detective drama show, the kind Sting would watch at 2 in the morning and cry because he was wasted. Also, three minutes until the bus was suppose to come.

 

“So you know about Sting’s ‘boyfriend’?”

 

“What,” says Rogue dumbly, mostly because Lucy used full-on air quotes with her fingers and everything. Lucy turns to grin at Lisanna, in a way that clearly means _I told you so._ Lisanna snickers and Rogue shakes his head. Then, before he can stop himself–  

 

“ _I_ am Sting’s boyfriend.”

 

Lucy goes stark-still. lisanna's mouth pops open in an excited 'o'. Rogue stares at the empty spot between them, breaking out in cold sweat. _What did he just say?_

 

It’s so quiet it’s almost like a lib… Hm. Well.

 

“Bye,” Rogue squeaks and squeezes through the door. Just his luck – the bus is only just arriving as he sprints towards it, heart racing.

 

(and not from running. Rogue is fit, thank you very much.)

  
“Should we uh, practice again?” Sting asks. They’re sitting on the couch, watching a bad alien movie while Sting avoids his homework. It’s pretty late.

 

“Mrhg,” Rogue replies, eyes glued to a plastic ufo on a string.

 

“Rogue!” Sting huffs. “ _You’re_ the one who wanted to practice. Saturday is in...two days! Two.”

 

 _That was before I told Heartfilia I was your boyfriend_ , Rogue thinks, sinking lower into the couch.

 

“Dude are you alright? You don’t have to if you really don’t want to.”

 

“I’m fine, Why do you ask?” Rogue feels like he can’t breathe.

 

“Your head is so far into your shoulders I can’t see your neck anymore.”

 

Ah, so that was why.

 

He sits up. “Alright, practice.” Without waiting for Sting’s response, he crawls into Sting’s lap. Sting makes a choked noise but Rogue assumes it’s because he just put all his weight directly on his stomach. Sting shuffles around until he’s propped against the pillows and sprawled across the couch, one arm dangling off and one draped across the back of the couch. Rogue’s lying on top of him, head on his chest, feeling it go up and down with his breathing.

 

“This is weird,” Sting murmurs, and yawns. Rogue nods, taking in Sting’s warmth around him and thinking about how nice he smells.

 

It’s a gross thought but he’s too tired to be weirded out. “Yea, it is.”

  
They fall asleep halfway through the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a vague idea of where the story is going, but if you have suggestions, PLEASE. there's big gaps where i'm just here like...  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> kudos and feedback are my motivation! i love hearing from u guys !!


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's all I want and more  
> I mean damn  
> What's not to adore?
> 
> I'm running my mouth  
> Just like I got her  
> But I surely don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the other chapters were around 2k words and this is almost 5k. cool
> 
> and so. the date. enjoy.
> 
> (you guys and your COMMENTS i love you ALL i read each one at least TWICE they make me so HAPPY)

Sting is panicking. The date is in an hour and and he still doesn’t know what to wear. He’s never been on a date before! All his suits are wrinkled! 

 

Which is one. He has one suit.

 

He throws his single suit on the bed and hurries out of his bedroom. “Rogue!” 

 

Rogue is watching tv on the couch. “Yea?”

 

Sting stares at him, completely losing his train of thought. “ _ Roguewhyaren’tyoureadyyet? ThedateisinONEHOURROGUEONEHOURYOUHAVEN’TEVENSHOWERED –”  _ he inhales. And exhales. “Do we have an ironing board.”

 

Rogue shrugs. “I haven’t seen one. Why do you need one?” 

 

Sting slumps. “My suit is wrinkled.”

 

“Yukino might have one. An ironing board, i mean, not a suit. Not a suit that would fit you, anyway.” With a dismissal wave, Rogue goes back to his show. 

 

“But she’ll ask questions! How do I explain why I need a suit? How do I explain a date? She knows us too well!”

 

“Oh, that.” Rogue turns around again. “Just tell her everything. I already did.”

 

Sting’s face explodes into a lovely shade of dark red. Maybe some purple. “You told her? Rogue you’ve just  _ jeopardized our entire situation!”  _

 

“Do you trust her at all? She won’t tell anyone. Anyway, why do you need a suit?” Rogue eyes Sting suspiciously. Sting pouts at him. Rogue is usually smarter than this. Doesn’t he understand  _ anything  _ about secrecy and not giving away something that could blow their cover?

 

“For our date, obviously.” he gestures to the sweats Rogue is still wearing. “You can’t go in sweatpants!”

 

Rogue raises his eyebrows. “It’s a casual movie date, not a wedding. Just put on some jeans and a nice shirt. Actually, no, _ please _ just some jeans and a nice shirt.”

 

“Fine. But get ready, won’t you?” Sting huffs, slowly backing into his room.

 

“I have an hour,” Rogue calls in reply.

 

“You have forty-five minutes!” Sting snaps, and slams his door.

  
★

  
By some stroke of luck, Rogue is in fact ready by the time they have to leave. Just in time, too.

 

“Have you been waiting by the door this entire time?” he asks as he walks out. He’s wearing an outfit similar to what he told Sting to wear – jeans and a nice button-up. His hair is tied back, and dang,  _ he’s really cute…! _

 

“What.” says Sting, at a loss, staring without realizing.

 

“What?” Rogue glances down, looking for a problem with his outfit. He finds none and frowns at Sting. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Huh?” Sting blinks. “Nothing! Nothing, let’s go.” He turns away and out the door so Rogue can’t see his face turning red.

 

“Hold on!” Rogue hurries to catch up with him. “We’ve got to pretend we’re in love, remember?” He holds out his hand expectantly.

 

_ That's not difficult,  _ Sting bites his lip and takes his hand, trying very hard to ignore the surge that runs up his arm at the touch. Can Rogue tell if his heartbeat speeds up through his hand?

 

They walk to the bus quickly. Rogue’s hand feels nice, and Sting hopes the bus is late. He doesn't want to let go. The thought that he technically  _ doesn't  _ have to let until the date is over raises his spirits and then dashes them expertly when the second thought barges in.  _ After this date, he can't hold hands with Rogue anymore. Never. Not ever again.  _

 

The bus ride is disappointingly short. They get off (still holding hands!) and begin the walk to the movie theatre. But as soon as Lucy and the boys come into view, Sting freezes. He can’t do this. “I can’t do this,” he says quietly.

 

“You what? You aren’t getting cold feet, are you?” Rogue’s tone is flat, but there’s something challenging underlying it. 

 

“Of course not!” Sting snaps back automatically. He scrambles for an excuse. “I just think we….” he flaps his free hand. “Don’t have a story about how we got together. We don’t have a plan of action. How can we win without a battle plan, Rogue?”

 

He’s totally spewing nonsense. He’s ready for Rogue to roll his eyes, but Rogue just hmms thoughtfully. “That’s a good point. Come on.” his grip tightens around Sting’s hand ( _ oo lala _ ) and he drags him out of sight. 

 

It feels weirdly intimate as Rogue stops between the movie theater and another building. The alley is dark, and kind of barren, but it’s not dirty, which is a relief. But it’s not a wide open space, either, and that puts Rogue kind of close to Sting. It’s not something new to Sting – he’s been in small spaces with Rogue before. Back in middle school and elementary, (sometimes even high school, but that was rare) when they used to play Mantracker (an over-glorified Hide and Seek Tag). Sting and Rogue would always hide together, even if teaming was self-sabotage. Under benches, in abandoned hallways, bushes, behind cars and trucks, and, on more than one occasion: in waterpipes, hunched over and getting soaked feet.

 

But this is...different? This is an entirely new context. He’s very close to Rogue, and they’re suppose to be dating. He can see the pink of Rogue’s lips, just a metre away. In fact, as they face each other, Sting realizes he could just _ lean forward…  _

 

He coughs twice and looks away. “So. Right. How did we get together?”

 

Rogue shrugs. “We could always pull the  _ we were drunk one night and decided to make out” _

 

Sting makes a face. That feels a little too close to something he might  _ actually do _ . “How about you saw me flirting and got really jealous and realized you were actually madly in love with me and then asked me on a date?”

 

Rogue’s face crinkles up. “What? No way, that’s weird. How about...we were paired as fake parents for a science course and decided we wanted to be together?”

 

_ That  _ feels  _ way _ too close to what’s happening right now. “No. what if it blows our cover?” Sting taps the wall behind him. They better think of something, quickly, before they’re late to the movie. He wants to watch the trailers, no matter how much Rogue doesn’t think they matter. He taps the cement wall behind him harder. “What if…” a thousand scenarios run through his head, none of them good. “What if we said our friends set us up in a game of truth or dare to confess to eachother?”

 

Rogue snorts, and lets out a sharp laugh, loud and unprepared. It’s incredibly charming and Sting smiles widely, pleased with himself even though he  _ knows  _ Rogue is laughing  _ at  _ him and not with him. 

 

“That might work, actually, even if it’s the most middle-school thing I’ve ever heard. Sting, how  _ old  _ are you?” he snickers, it’s almost a giggle, and Sting’s legs go weak. “Sure, that one, even if might the worst idea. I need to see you pull this off.”

 

Sting breaks out into a grin. He’s almost sure he’ll do  _ anything  _ at this point. “Deal,” he says, and without thinking, grabs Rogue’s hand. Racing towards the meeting spot where Lucy, Natsu and Gray are still waiting, he drags his fake boyfriend behind him. “Sorry we’re late!”

 

Lucy laughs when he halts in front of her. “Look who the cat dragged in! Don’t worry, we haven’t waited long.” she sees Rogue still attached to Sting’s hand. “Ah, Rogue, long time no see. And by one time no see, I mean...Thursday.” she smiles. Sting gives Rogue a look. When did he talk to Lucy? Rogue ignores the look, or doesn’t notice.

 

“And when I made that bet I was sure Sting was going to have to french kiss Bob.” Sting’s used to Lucy being a drama queen, but it’s still ridiculous when she heaves a long, heavy sigh. 

 

“Rogue’s your  _ boyfriend??”  _ Natsu’s gaping at them, and so is Gray, but at least he’s trying to be subtle. “I’ve been to Sting’s house loads, they never acted couple...y.”

 

“I don’t like PDA,” Rogue splutters before Sting can say anything. His hand is sweaty as he grips Sting’s tighter. It’s sweet. “And we haven’t been together long. Maybe you came over before we were together?”

 

Gray tilts his head. “How long  _ have  _ you been together? Sting talks about you, sure, but not like...that.” he makes a vague gesture. “But yea. How long?”

 

Sting turns red. Why would Gray mention that he  _ talks  _ about Rogue? At least he didn’t say how much, which is...more than he should talk about Rogue. And shit. How long have they been together? Not long, not a year, but not too short? A month? Two? Four? Shit, shit,

 

“Six months,” he spits out, at the same time Rogue says “three and a half months.”

 

They stare at eachother, panicked, for a split second. “I–I  _ mean,” _ Sting trips. “Rogue’s right, three and a half months. Six months is when I realized I was head over heels for him. My bad.” he smiles as naturally as he can while his hands are shaking, and gives Rogue a loving nudge. He hopes it’s loving. He’s not sure what he’s doing, actually.

 

The other three are watching them with vague suspicion. There’s a tense silence until Natsu is the first to drop his guard. “We better get in before the lineup for popcorn is too big. Race you, popsicle!” without waiting for Gray response, he darts inside. Gray yelps and sprints after him.

 

“Come on, lovebirds,” Lucy gestures and follows the boys. “I’m not done with you two yet, though. There’s something that feels off.” she glances back and winks. Sting swallows.

 

They purposely go into a line two away from Lucy, claiming it’ll go faster. Already there’s a lot of people, so they’re hidden in the almost-crowd. Immediately out of sight, Rogue sighs and loosens his grip on Sting’s hand. He hadn’t noticed how tightly Rogue was holding on until he let go. Experimentally, he rubs his hand.

 

“She’s observant,” Rogue says in an already-exhausted voice. 

 

“They all are,” Sting shrugs. “Natsu may not seem like it, but you should see him. He does martial art, you know. Gray’s act is that he doesn’t care. Anyway, you want m&ms, right?”

 

“Yes,” Rogue glances back, scoping the other lines in case the fairies were watching them right now. Sting follows his gaze – Lucy’s paying for her snacks, and Natsu and Gray are playing uncle. Safe, but for how long?

 

They pay for their snacks and go to meet up with the others. “Ha! So much for having a faster line!” he has Gray in a chokehold. Gray wiggles around and flips the position so he’s got Natsu in a headlock. Natsu bites him. 

 

Lucy huffs. “I should’ve invited Erza. Boys! If you get us kicked out I  _ will _ tell Erza!”

 

They stop. It’s impressive how fast, really. Sting makes a mental note to use this tactic in the future.

 

Luckily for them, the movie theatre is pretty empty and they can practically sit wherever they want. Sting and Rogue go to the back, since they always go to the back. Lucy sits a row in front of them, strategically placed so she can glance back and ‘check’ on them whenever she wants. Gray and Natsu are on separate sides of her, still glaring at each other. Sting thinks about how they are still the weirdest group of friends he’s ever seen. Is this a Fairy thing?

 

Ten minutes into the movie and Sting realizes he’s just  _ sitting  _ beside Rogue. They aren’t even holding hands anymore. Quickly, before Lucy can glance back, he throws his arm over Rogue’s shoulder. Too roughly, perhaps, because Rogue flinches. “Wha–”

 

“Boyfriends,” Sting whispers, and Rogue relaxes. 

 

“Oh, right.” he shuffles as much as he can closer to Sting, almost leaning against him. Sting’s body goes rigid. Rogue is  _ warm _ , and his head is  _ right there _ , Sting can  _ smell  _ his shampoo and the cologne he put on. It’s enough to drive him nuts.

 

And then, when Sting thinks it can’t get any  _ worse  _ (or better? This is a dream come true, after all) Rogue shoves himself right into Sting’s chest, wrapping his arms around him. His head nuzzles against Sting’s cheek. “Lucy’s looking at us,” he whispers quickly. “Pretend I said something really funny.”

 

Sting does laugh, but it’s out of sheer nervousness. His body has gone completely stiff, and basic bodily functions have seemed to shut down almost completely. As if to compensate for the severe lack of being able to  _ breathe _ , his heart is working overtime, pounding against his chest.

 

They're twenty minutes into the movie and Sting hasn't seen  _ any  _ of it. He just can't concentrate. Given, it's not a good movie, so it doesn't matter. But even if it  _ was  _ a good movie he wouldn't be able to focus. 

 

Is he sweating? He’s definitely sweating. Oh  _ god,  _ he must be  _ disgusting.  _

 

It would be easier to concentrate if Rogue would stop  _ fucking fidgeting. _ He’s always known Rogue was the fidgety type, but this is  _ ridiculous.  _ A sniffle there, a heaved sigh here, constantly moving. It’s hard to relax when Rogue keeps nudging him with his head. 

 

Scratch that, it’s impossible.

 

If it was anyone else, Sting knows he could just push them off, get up and leave. But it’s Rogue, and oh god, he won’t admit it, but it’s  _ so cute.  _ The movie must be funny, because Rogue keeps laughing and Sting can feel his body shaking with each chuckle or the arm he has around Sting tightens at tense parts and sometimes he buries his face in the crook of Sting’s neck when he laughs.....shit.  _ Shit. _

 

Eventually though, Rogue decides it’s safe to pull away, and Sting can breathe again, but he’d give that away just for Rogue to be curled up to him again. At least this way he can concentrate on the movie, but there’s not really a point, since it’s almost over. Whatever, he’ll catch the climax and judge the movie based on that if any of them grill him for details.

 

★

 

Lucy stretches loudly as they exit the theatre. “That sucked,” Gray complains beside her, to Natsu’s immediate rebuttable. 

 

“I thought it was  _ cool. _ The fight scenes were awesome!”

 

“Yea, well, you would, ashbrain.”

 

“What is that suppose to mean?” before Gray can react, Natsu has him in a chokehold again.

 

“Outside!” Lucy barks, and the boys barrel out the doors. 

 

Like with most movies Sting’s been to, the sky outside has changed drastically. It happens almost everytime, but he’ll never adjust to the sudden change in weather or how it’s suddenly nighttime. This time, it’s just almost-dusk, so the shadows around them are long and the clouds have cleared completely.

 

“Should we get dinner or something?” Lucy looks at Sting and Rogue.

 

Sting stills. That wasn’t part of the deal. “Nah, Rogue is probably tired, right Rogue?”

 

Rogue blinks at Sting, who tries to communicate with his eyes.  _ Agree with me, come on, let’s go home, Rogue, don’t let Lucy drag this out.  _

 

“I’m feeling fine actually. Dinner sounds good,” says Rogue, and smiles at Sting expectantly. 

 

_ You dumbass,  _ Sting tries to tell him with his eyes, but only earns a confused look. So much for people with a close bond being able to communicate silently. He pouts. “Ok. where are we going?”

 

“I’m feeling like Chinese,” Beside them, Gray appears. Sting jumps.

 

“ _ Jeezus,  _ dude!” he rounds on Gray as Natsu appears beside him. “Where did you  _ come  _ from?”

 

“My bad,” Gray grins lopsidedly, looking pleased. 

 

“Chinese? I want indian, it’s spicy!” Natsu bumps Gray with his shoulder. “Indian, right Lucy? We’re getting indian?”

 

“Ew, no,” Lucy shakes her head. “Do you know what indian does to me? And you always get bad gas afterwards. We share an apartment!” she makes a face, nose crinkling up. Sting snickers and Lucy turns to him. “Where do you two wanna go? It’s your date, afterall.”

 

They all glance at Rogue, Sting included. He’s the odd one out, and therefore, the guest. “Um, I don’t…” Rogue trails off, visibly uncomfortable by the sudden attention. 

 

It’s cute, seeing how flustered he looks. Sting takes the opportunity to nudge his cheek with his own. “Come on, tell them where you wanna go, babe.” it seems natural, teasing him like this.

 

“Gross,” says Natsu and Sting remembers there’s people watching them. “I thought you said Rogue doesn’t like PDA.”

 

“He doesn’t,” Sting takes this opportunity to slip his hand around Rogue’s waist, feeling a sense of pride and a tinge of guilt when Rogue jumps at the touch. “But I do. Isn’t that right, honey?” ooh, Rogue’s face right now... He’s having so much  _ fun. _

 

“Sting…” Rogue hisses quietly in warning. Sting pauses, suddenly realizing how tense Rogue is, how red his cheeks are.

 

“Sorry,” he begins to pull away, remembering his friendship with Rogue. This is probably really weird. But then a hand gently cups his cheek and fingers push on his chin, forcing him to look up and make eye contact with Rogue.

 

“You’re going to lose, again, Sting,” Rogue purrs, too low for the others to hear and the competitive flame inside Sting comes back, full force. His legs are probably shaking but there’s no way he can back down, not now, not when Rogue’s other hand is slowly sliding around his back, sending enough shocks to paralyze him right on the spot. 

 

“You _ wish _ ,” he murmurs back, hands moving to meet Rogue’s face, pulling him in, pulling him closer,

 

“That’s enough!” in an instant, he’s yanked away, Rogue’s warmth retreating from his fingers. He lands on his butt with a hard thump, stunned. Lucy comes into view, expression amused, but harsh, like she wants to be angry, but she’s trying not to laugh. Somewhere in the distance, Gray and Natsu are making over-dramatic retching noises. 

 

“Uhhhhh,” Sting stares at her dumbly. 

 

Lucy whacks him over the head. “That’s enough, Sting. You guys are gross. You’re walking with me from now on. We’re going Wok Box.”

 

“Uhh..” Sting says again.

 

Star 

 

They walk in silence. Up ahead, Rogue is being jostled between Gray and Natsu. Sting wants to go up to give him a hand, but it can’t be helped.

 

“Risky move,” a glance over at Lucy confirms that she’s listening. “Splitting me from my date. What happened to the bet?” he thinks about the entire date. “Actually, I thought you were suppose to be more discreet? What happened to ‘ _ we'll just-so-happen to be watching the same movie _ ’?”

 

Lucy shrugs. “I realized the word discreet is lost on Natsu. And I that was before I found out you actually had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend was Rogue.”

 

Sting frowns. Didn’t she only find out when they met up? She seemed pretty not...discreet when they came around the corner. He laughs the thought away. “Yea, well.”

 

The sun is going down, giving the sky a pretty colour. Dark clouds are rolling in from the north, promising rain and fog. Around them, street lights are going up, looking like tiny stars all down the road. Sting smiles. He should come down here more often, it really is lovely. 

 

He and Rogue should come down here more often.

 

They get into the fast food restaurant at around 6:50. It’s less of a restaurant than it is a fast-food joint, but that doesn’t matter. Sting doesn’t have much money anyway and this date is quickly deteriorating from a  _ date _ to a  _ show off my (fake!) boyfriend to my friends _ . It’s not like they were going to go to a steakhouse or drink expensive wine with Lucy, Gray and Natsu, anyway.

 

 “So,” with a mouth full of food, Gray points at them with his chopsticks. “How’d you get together, anyway? I know from Sting that you guys were friends since...middle school?”

 

“End of elementary,” Sting corrects him, captivated by the way Rogue handles his chopsticks, plucking pieces of meat from their shared bowl. “And uh, I can’t say the way we got together was cool...really lame, actually, please don’t make me tell it.”

 

“No way!” Natsu jumps in his seat, his mouth also full of food. “Now we have to hear it!”

 

Between them, Lucy smiles tells Gray that if he doesn’t  _ pull his pants up this minute, she is going to shove his very hot meal down his boxers.  _

 

To Sting, she grins. “Natsu has a point. You  _ cannot _ just give us that juicy detail and expect us to not be curious.”

 

Sting sighs. “Alright, alright.” he glances at Rogue, incase he wants to add some details, but Rogue just nods encouragingly. Sting inhales. “So, this was three months ago, at uh, this party. Of a gir-- _ guy _ we know.” he has to backtrack when he remembers the only girls besides Lucy he really knows Minerva and Yukino, and neither would host a party. Minerva might, if it was  _ Saw. _

 

Would Rufus hold a party? Yea, sure, for this he would.   
  
“And y’know how parties go. We got bored, we played some party games. Uh, you know, stuff like spin the bottle. We didn’t play that, but we did play truth or dare.” he grins at them and Lucy lets out a sharp laugh. 

 

“Truth or dare? You aren’t serious, are you?”

 

“Yea, I know, I  _ know.  _ The pinnacle of stupid party games. Anyway, we’re sitting there, in this stupid circle, and like, this drunk kid is starting it off. We’ve got this cup of, of, jeez, I don’t know. It  _ smelled,  _ though. The rules were if you chickened out of a dare, or a truth, you had to take a sip.”

 

Mentally, he’s recalling a game of ToD he played the summer he got out of middle school and taking chunks from that. Rogue was there, but he wasn’t playing truth or dare. If Sting remembers, he might’ve been playing Pokemon on his DS with Dobengal. Loser.

 

“It was expired juice, expired sour cream, hot-sauce, and vodka. Lots of salt, too,” Rogue pipes up.

“What?? Vodka? How do you remember that _?”  _ Sting stares at him, flabbergasted. Rogue shrugs, dropping food in his mouth.

 

“I was in the kitchen when they did it. I doubt Orga even meant to add that much salt. It just–” he makes an action like shaking a salt shaker, then makes a pop sound with his mouth. “Half the thing, into the drink.” 

 

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ Sting whispers, snickering, remembering the face his friend had made when they had drank it. 

 

“Any _ way,”  _ Natsu interrupts loudly. “So you were playing Truth or Dare and had to take a sip, blah blah blah. What happened?”

 

“Right.” Sting quickly recalls how he wants the story to go. It’s a lie, so he doesn’t have to worry about if what he’s saying is right. But it is easier to just pull from a different story.   
  


“It must’ve been disgusting, like, uh, one kid, started like..vomiting? It was super gross.” that did happen. The boy had thrown up over the fence. ”So of course no one’s gonna chicken out, because no one’s gonna drink that. And this one girl, she knew I had a crush on Rogue. I mean, if I had known he was super in love with me, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.” he grins smugly at Rogue, and Rogue punches him. He keeps going. 

 

“And this girl, hoooooo, this girl, she was mean. Not nice. Like. She gets her turn and immediately points me out. Maybe she was just trying to push us along, but she was  _ evil.  _ So she points at me and yknow.  _ Sting. Truth or Dare?”  _ he uses the deepest voice he has, trying to pretend to be an evil demon overlord. It earns a snicker from Lucy.

 

“And I’m not doing Truth, because I knew she’s going to pull that middle school card and say something like ‘Do you have feelings for Rogue?’ oh, also, we were all kinda drunk. Rogue, were you?”

 

Rogue’s shoulders go up and down slightly. “Uh, buzzed.”

 

“Same. So i said Dare, cuz, whatever, I can handle dares. One time i had to take off my pants and wave them out the window. And the dare? I had to sit in Rogue’s lap for the rest of the game.”

 

Gray raises his eyebrows, and Lucy laughs. “Rogue is shorter than you! Wasn’t that awkward?”

 

Beside him, he can see Rogue flush red. He nods. Potentially, he could stop here, tie up the story, but he’s on a roll, so he won’t. “It got worse, though. I’ve sat in Rogue lap before, it’s no big deal. Roadtrips with the family, right?

 

“But then, because we weren’t that bothered about the whole lap thing, i guess they made it their challenge to see how awkward they could make it for us? They wouldn’t stop picking us, it was awful.  _ Rogue, i dare you to wrap your arms around Sting. Sting, i dare you to straddle Rogue.  _ Eventually, one of them dares Rogue to kiss me.” he’s watching rogue out of the corner of his eye, watching him sink lower into the seat. His funeral, he told Sting he could do it.

 

“Did you?” leaning forward, Lucy pins Rogue with a stare. He squirms under her gaze. 

 

“Uhh..” a side-glance at Sting, and then, “Yea. Yep. And then he said I like you and I said the same and here we are. Dating, that is. Here we are dating.”

 

In truth, Sting is a bit miffed Rogue cut the story so short. Part of him wanted it to be more dramatic. More dares. But Rogue’s already looking worn out and embarrassed from the whole thing so Sting lets the feeling slide away. Besides, they’ve finished the meal they shared.

 

“Yep. That’s that. We should head.” he stands, offering a hand to Rogue, who eagerly accepts. To Lucy and the boys, he says, “thanks, we had fun. See you guys some other time.”

 

“Bye~!” Lucy calls after them, and then– “GRAY!  _ Where the fuck is your shirt?? Find it! Now!” _

 

★

 

It’s not until they’re halfway home that Sting realizes he's still holding Rogue’s hand. Even then, he doesn’t notice until Rogue does and pulls away first. 

 

“We can stop now,” he says, and Sting forces down the feeling of rejection.

 

“Right.” he recovers. “Thank you for helping me. Like I said, I’ll do anything in return.”

 

“Oh! Right. I’ll have to think about my favour.” he grins slightly at Sting. 

 

“Seriously though,” Sting slaps his back. “ _ Thank you _ . I’m sorry i had to put you through that.”

 

This time, Rogue laughs. “Don’t worry about. I had fun, it was fun. And it wasn’t that bad. Besides, Sting, we’re best friends. You may be annoying, but I’ve got your back.”

 

“Thanks,” Sting smiles, a warm feeling in his chest. Rogue is right – it was fun. He thinks back to the street they walked down, remembering the way the pretty streetlights had made him feel alive. “We should go back soon. To the streets we were on. It’s really nice down there.”

 

Rogue scoffs. “Are you asking me on a real date this time?” he snickers and punches Sting lightly in the arm when he sees how red his face is. “Kidding! You get so embarrassed so easily.”

 

Sting rolls his eyes, shoving him back. “Loser. I meant like a bro-thing. Like bros. A bro-date. A brate. Platonic. Whatever.” his face is still red. 

 

He looks over and sees Rogue laughing at him, hand over his mouth and doubling over. It’s so endearing he forgets all about his embarrassment. He grins and shoves Rogue again, which only makes him laugh harder, and makes Sting laugh, and suddenly they’re both sobbing with laughter, falling to their knees in the middle of the sidewalk.

 

They get back later than planned, both collapsing on the couch as the clock reads 9:43. Rogue sighs happily, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. He flicks on the TV and settles in. “Hey, Sting.”

 

“Mm?” says Sting,pulling off his shoes and letting them fall onto the ground.  _ Thump. Thump.  _

 

“I was thinking about this during the movie, but I forgot to ask when we were walking home. How are you going to tell them we broke up?”

 

Break. Up. Break up. Shit. He hadn't…hadn't even considered that. But it was only a fake date, so of course they had to…split. Rogue wouldn't pretend to be his boyfriend forever.

  
  
Sting's chest clenches painfully. Rogue is still looking at him expectantly so he smiles thinly. "Right, right. I'll figure something out, tomorrow. I'm going to bed." Without waiting for a response, he slides off the couch and darts towards his room.   


  
"What? It's only ten! Sting!" Sting ignores him, instead slipping into his room, shutting the door and collapsing on his bed without removing his clothes. He falls asleep immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor lucy. She's the mom-friend, but not by choice.
> 
> also in this fic Gray and Natsu are both ace-aro which is why the whole lucy/natsu/gray thing is Completely Platonic and also yes Erza does live with them too but i haven't been able to fit her in since she wasnt there for the bet? she's come in later because i absolutely adore the Strongest Team/Team Natsu they have such a good friendship
> 
> Also, i like to think Sting tends to show off more in crowds? with Rogue and Yukino he doesn't have to but Lucy Gray and Natsu have that challenging aura about them...whadda u guys think
> 
> I'll try and write faster, too. i know updating once a month isn't....ideal


	5. the aftermath (for Rogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a fly that's trapped  
> In a web  
> But I'm thinking that  
> My spider's dead  
> Lonely, lonely little life  
> I could kid myself  
> In thinking that I'm fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep writing this as if it’s not basically winter in the story lol whadda mean it’s really cold it’s like 25Cº/77º here
> 
> It’s also a mess there’s about seven scene breaks

 

 _Technically,_ Rogue thinks, shoving a thin metal rod constructed out of an old wire hanger down the shower drain, _I’m not single._

 

The shower is clogged. Rogue has longer hair, so Sting pins it on him. “ _It’s your fault, so you should do it!”_ He says, grinning as he leaves. One day Rogue is going to cut his own hair really short just to spite him.

 

It won’t happen, though, because Sting has a weak stomach. He can’t do it without potentially vomiting everywhere. Rogue huffs and drags out a long string of gunk and hair, and drops it carefully into the plastic bag beside him.

 

 _Technically,_ he thinks again, _I'm not single to a certain amount of people._

 

But _what_ is that certain amount of people? Lucy, Gray and Natsu, as well as their friends. Supposedly, any Fairy, but what about friends of fairies? Second friends? Friends in law? Where does he draw the line?

 

Rogue slumps, letting out a groan. It’ll be easier just to wait until Sting thinks of a way to break them up. He hopes it’s soon.

 

☆☆☆

 

_“As much as it would be easier to do it immediately, we do have to wait. Break-ups are rarely sudden.” Rogue eyes his roommate, who is currently sitting against the wall, avoiding eye-contact._

 

_“What do you mean?” Sting pulls his knees up to his chest, arm over his head. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here._

 

_“It's extremely suspicious to just break up with no warning, you know.” This conversation feels suspicious. Sting should know all this, but he’s giving almost no input. Rogue thought Sting would be eager to break them off, so he can be available again. Not that he’s ever really gotten more than a few dates. With a frown, Rogue nudges him with his foot._

 

_“Yea, got it. So…what? Should I tell them that we’re having problems and act all depressed next time I hang out with them?”_

 

_Rogue nods. “Yea, that's the best way to do it.” He pauses. Most people move out after they get dumped. “Oh, also, make sure to add something about it getting in the way of our friendship…or something. I still have to live here.”_

 

_“Mmm, right. It probably won’t be much of a problem. There’s four of them in that house, so they’ll understand if you can’t afford your own place and Natsu dated a girl and he's still friends with her so there’s that too.”_

 

_Rogue blinks. “He did? What happened with them?”_

 

_Sting shrugs. “Wasn't there. Lucy says the girl realized she didn't like boys and Natsu realized he didn't like anyone more than a friend.”_

 

_“Oh,” Rogue says. “Well, see how it goes.”_

 

☆☆☆

 

After that, Sting had gotten up and left, presumably to hang out with Yukino. Rogue had grabbed a pair of gloves and headed to the washroom to try to unplug the drain.

 

It's not that he's bothered, really, about not being single. He's never really cared about being with someone at all? Maybe a sideways crush or an infatuation with a new friend, but it was never… something to chase after.

 

First a date and now this? He shoves the wire deep down the drain. Soul-searching about his feelings could come after he was done with the shower. Or never. Whichever was more convenient.

 

Right around the time he’s almost done with the drain, the door opens. Voices drift into the living room. Rogue calls a quick “hello?” and when he’s met with no response, wanders out of the bathroom to investigate.

 

It’s Sting, (obviously) and Yukino. Yukino’s face lights up when she sees him. “Hey Rogue! I was hoping you’d be here too.”

 

“Oh?” He glances between them, eyes resting on Sting, who avoids the contact. If Yukino notices how strangely quiet Sting is being, she doesn’t let on, instead shrugging at Rogue’s surprise.

 

“Well, it involves Minerva, so it involves both of you.” She moves to sit on the couch, gesturing for Rogue to follow. “Sting already knows.”

 

Said Sting moves to the kitchen. “I’ll make a lunch,” he says quietly, shuffling through the cupboards. Rogue frowns.

 

“What happened? Is he all right?” he lowers his voice so Sting can’t listen in. Not that he won’t confront him by himself, but Sting’s also been dodging his questions all morning.

 

Yukino’s eyebrows go up. She glances away, pupils flickering all over the room. “You know how close Minerva and Sting are.”

 

“Yea,” Rogue’s frown deepens. “I dislike when they hang out.” Minerva is… not a nice person.

 

“We saw her, with some _guy._ Big. Shady. She snapped at Sting, and said some really mean things to him.” She’s fiddling with her hands, wringing her fingers over and over.

 

“So?” there’s something that still feels out of place, besides Minerva’s new shady bff. “Minerva’s been saying mean things to Sting since middle school.” an old feeling claws its way into Rogue’s stomach. A feeling he got whenever Sting and Minerva snapped at each other, words just a bit harsher than teasing. Whenever Minerva would make a criticising remark about Sting without warning. Without realizing, he bites his teeth together, hard. “That’s not the only thing that happened, did it?”

 

Yukino looks away. “… and we had a deep chat? That’s it, really. But Minerva, I’m worried. Her clothes all have these symbols? I think she joined a gang.”

 

That’s new. Minerva in a gang is worrying. She may be a shit friend, but she’s still a friend. “Did she seem like she wanted to be there?”

 

“Kind...kind of? It’s hard to tell when she’s always angry. She’s texting me less and less, too.”

 

Sting comes over with a plate of grilled cheese and a bottle of ketchup. “Lunch is ready,” he grins, setting it down. Half the sandwiches are partly burned. Rogue gives him a sideways look. He ignores it.

 

Yukino takes the most burnt one, dipping it in the ketchup. Sting and Rogue watch her crunch into it. She swallows and sets it down. “These are good, Sting. Anyway, um, what she did text me is that there’s a party coming up, and she wants me to go? It was vague. But I want you guys to come with me too.”

 

“Wait,” Sting says, mouth stuffed with bread and cheese, “like, both of us? Why both?”  
  
“Cuz...you’re both my friends? You’re both Minerva’s friends? And I’ll feel better with both of you there.” she gives him a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Anyway,” licking ketchup off his fingers, Rogue smiles reassuringly at Yukino. “We’ll come. When is it?”

 

“She didn’t say.” she stands and hops over the couch. “I’ll be right back, gotta use the washroom.” in a flash, she disappeared with a distant slam of a door.

 

“Don’t use the shower!” Rogue leans over the couch and calls after her, not quite loud enough. “It’s gross.”

 

He moves back to his original position to see Sting holding back a laugh. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he frowns. “...what.”

 

Sting just smiles in response, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

 

“What?” Rogue asks again, louder this time.

 

“Nothing!” he repeats, stifling a snort. Rogue glares at him, but he only giggles harder, hand over his mouth.

 

“Why is he laughing?” Yukino asks, closing the door to the bathroom, the flush of a toilet echoing in the background.

 

With the shake of his head, Rogue frowns harder. “I don’t know, he won’t tell me.” he scowls at Sting and Yukino follows his lead with a less-driven glare. they stare at him until he takes a deep breath and relaxes.

 

“It was nothing, really.”

 

“Sure, right, course,” Rogue rolls his eyes, but drops the subject anyway. He checks his phone, scrolling through the class emails. Yukino whispers something which makes Sting squawk like a bird, which in turn makes her burst into high pitched giggles. To this he hits her and complains, and she laughs again. Typical Yukino and Sting. Always laughing about something Rogue doesn’t understand, and lately it’s gotten more frequent.

 

In an attempt to get away from Sting’s assault, Yukino leaps over and into Rogue’s lap, landing on his stomach. Rogue makes a strangled groan as she settles between him and the far side of the couch, away from Sting. “That’s not fair!” Sting makes a move to go after her, so she holds up Rogue’s arm as a defense.

 

Rogue tiredly looks at his arm being used as a shield, then at Sting ready to pounce on the both of them, and lets out a tired sigh. “Go outside, you two.”

 

They do not.

 

The problem with Yukino being between him and the couch arm is there’s virtually no space, so she’s putting her full weight on his lap. She isn’t that heavy, but she’s also _kneeing him in the goddamn stomach!_

 

Also, she’s making faces at Sting which seem to piss him off more than it should, so maybe he’s missing something. “Please go outside,” he says again, and is ignored, again.

 

Yukino shuffles in place, moving her knees out of Rogue’s stomach and replacing them with her feet, which is arguably worse. “Sorry,” she whispers when her hand mashes his face. Rogue makes an angry groan.

 

“Get back over here,” Sting makes a half-hearted swipe at her and she squeals, moving behind Rogue to protect herself.

 

She sticks her tongue out at Sting. Sting flips her off.

 

“ _Seriously_ ,” Rogue barks, throwing Yukino onto Sting. Both of them scream. “Go. Outside.”

 

Yukino pulls herself off Sting and off the couch. “I should get going anyway. Got a report due soon, and I don’t want to get behind.”

 

“Aw.” despite the fact that they were just fighting, Sting looks genuinely disappointed about her leaving so soon. “Let’s watch a movie next time.”

 

“You guys just saw one.” Yukino laughs lightly, slipping on her shoes. “See you later.”

 

⟡⟡⟡

 

The full embarrassment of what he did only hits Rogue almost three days _after_ the date, when it’s probably 2am and he’s trying to go to sleep but he _can’t_ because _holy fuck he was really about to kiss Sting wasn’t he?_

 

He rolls over in his bed, face burning. Was it Sting pulling him in, or was it him moving closer? It’s been three days and he can still see the pink of Sting’s lips and feel his fingers gently around his jaw, guiding him forward, guiding him–

 

Rogue slams his head into the pillow. Sting’s his _best friend_ and he’s having gay thoughts about him!

 

The lack of sleep. It must be the lack of sleep. Just because he can’t sleep and his brain is tired and it’s doing weird things to his head and making him think about the date weirdly – it doesn’t mean anything! Not a thing. Zip, zilch, zero.

 

A thought about having Sting wrapped in his arms comes into his head at full force in perfect detail and Rogue lets out a loud groan and tries to smother himself to death with his pillow.

 

His door opens. “Rogue?”

 

It’s Sting. Of course it’s Sting. Why is he awake? “Why are you awake?”

 

Sting twirls a pen. Rogue hadn't noticed it until Sting brought it up to his chin to tap it. “Homework. Due tomorrow,” he explains. “Are you alright?”

 

“Can’t sleep,” Rogue manages, forcing his eyes away from the way Sting’s mouth quirks up at the side when he’s confused.

 

His roommate grins at him. “Wanna play Just Dance?”

 

Rogue groans into his pillow. “Oh _god._ Don’t you have homework?”

 

Sting shrugs. His eyes dart away from Rogue’s gaze and around the dark room. “I’m..taking a break?” lips upturn to a devilish smirk, which is a clear sign that he doesn’t need a break. His eyes sparkle. Rogue is memorized.

 

“...Fine.”

 

He crawls out of bed, feeling even more awake, if that was possible. Sting makes an excited noise and bounces away to the old wii he took from his family when he left. When Rogue comes into the living room he’s holding out several cases. “Take your pick. Remember, two doesn’t work very well.”

 

Rogue snorts. “We haven’t played this in forever. Uh, three?” he reaches out and takes it from Sting’s hand. Sting makes a face.

 

“Three? Three _sucks,_ dude! Betrayal. Four is the best.”

 

“ _You_ only like four because it has _Livin’ la Viva Loca_.”

 

“No…”

 

“Oh what, you want to see if you can beat your high score for _Disturbia_? Isn’t five stars enough?”

 

Sting smacks Rogue on the shoulder. “Fine, whatever! We’ll play 3! But we’re totally playing _Lollipop_ first.”

 

“Ugh.” even still, he pops in the game, selects it in the menu, and when it loads, scrolls across to the thumbnail that plays a clip of _Lollipop_ when he pauses on it. He clicks on it and glances back at Sting, who’s got a remote and is standing in a ridiculous pose, looking absolutely ecstatic. “It’s not even that great of a song, Sting.”

 

Sting makes a face at him. “You’re just bad at it.”

 

Which is true, Rogue _is_ , despite his best efforts. Sometimes he pretends it’s dumb and that he’s not trying, but dancing to trendy pop songs is...really fun. He cringes to think about if Gajeel ever knew about him enjoying trying to beat Sting in a dance-off at three am.

 

Immediately, Sting’s pink circle claims a crown. He grins and using a free hand, finger guns at Rogue. Rogue rolls his eyes, but tries to change the speed of his moves in an attempt to sync with the on screen dancer.

 

Of course, Sting wins. _And_ beats his own highscore. He whoops and spins around Rogue, who barely cleared two stars.

 

“My turn,” Rogue clicks at the screen, flicking back. “ _Take on me_.”

 

Sting groans. “ _Take on me_ ? You know he _dabs_ in that, right? DABS, ROGUE.”

 

Rogue laughs. He’s going to be _so tired_ tomorrow, but he’s in a good mood and Sting’s in a good mood (for what seems like the first time since the whole bet ordeal started) so he’ll just enjoy himself for now. He’ll worry about almost kissing Sting some other time.

 

Sting wins four more songs in a row _and_ dabs flawlessly to _Take on me_ before Rogue feels sleep creeping up on him. “I’m going to bed,” he announces.

 

“Aw... one more song. C’mon Rogue. C’mon.” Sting gives Rogue an over the shoulder pouty face as he continues to win at _Venus._

 

“Seriously, I’m so tired,” Rogue drops onto the couch, discarding his remote.

 

“Take a break then,” sting suggests. “I'm going to keep playing, join back in again later.”

 

“Sure,” Rogue lies across the couch. Within minutes, he’s almost completely asleep.

 

He can’t tell when the lights turn off or when Sting stops playing, but in his dreamless haze he _does_ notice when something soft is pulled up to his shoulder and just barely feels the something light and warm press against his forehead.

 

⟡⟡⟡

 

He awakes on the couch to a blanket covering him and several texts from Yukino.

 

**Yukino**

The party is next friday

**Yukino**

  It starts at 7 but we don’t have to be there at 7

**Yukino**

  Please let Sting know too!

**Yukino**

  Here’s the address:

 

Underneath is what looks like a screenshot of probably Yukino and Minerva’s conversation, cropped to just one text. Rogue opens it and saves the image, then goes to class. It's noon — Sting is also long gone. Rogue wonders if he actually finished his work.

 

⟡⟡⟡

 

The answer comes when he sees Sting around five, cup of something in his hand and looking like shit.

 

“Hey,” Sting waves at him, eyes unfocused. His hand is shaking. Rogue picks up his pace so he take the cup from Sting before Sting can spill any.

 

“Did you finish your work?” he asks calmly, taking a sip of the drink to find out what it is. It’s… actually, what the heck is this? Disgusting, that’s what. And it’s a worrying dark green colour. He pours it down the nearest garbage can. “What the fuck are you drinking?”

 

Sting grins. “Idk.” he raises his hand slowly. “Coffee…. Monster… Gatorade….uh….”

 

“ _Why?_ ” Rogue asks through gritted teeth.

 

“Didn’t...sleep.”

 

“For fuck’s sake,” Rogue breathes, moving behind Sting to push him to the bus stop. “I knew we shouldn’t have played that game last night. I even fell asleep! Did you put that blanket on me?”

 

Slowly, surely, Sting turns a lovely shade of red that Rogue doesn’t see until he sits him down on the bus stop bench. When he does, he panics. Just a little bit. “Dude what the fuck how much energy drink have you had? You’re burning _up!”_

 

A shake of the head. “I’m fine,” Sting assures. His eyes flicker to the side and go wide. “Quick – do something romantic.”

 

“ _What.”_ following his gaze, Rogue sees no other than Lucy Heartfilia and Erza Scarlet. “Oh no.”

 

He isn’t given anytime to react when Sting pulls him down hard – he lands with a thump on Sting’s lap. Sting’s arms quickly wrap around him, although it’s a bit awkward, since Rogue isn’t much shorter than Sting. “What are you doing?”

 

“Uh. You’re sitting on my lap. Because we’re boyfriends?” Sting looks up at him with big eyes. Rogue scowls back, but shifts into a more comfortable position anyway.

 

Lucy and Erza are almost upon them. Rogue has never met Erza in person, but she’s very well known around the city – especially if she catches you doing something… frowned upon by the law. He feels a chill down his back. How did Lucy become friends with such a powerful woman?

 

“Rogue…”

 

Shit. Sting’s voice is right there, low and breathy. Rogue squirms, his chills replaced by embarrassed warmth. “Y-yea?” why is he stuttering? What is happening?

 

“Listen, I know you’re ticklish, but I’m just going to rest my chin against your shoulder, ok?” he doesn’t give Rogue a chance to respond (protest, for that matter) before he does it. It wouldn’t have mattered because Lucy’s already seen them and is dragging Erza over.

 

“There’s my favourite couple!” she teases, coming to a halt in front of them. “I guess i was worried for nothing, Sting.”

 

“Ha, yea,” Sting laughs once, and Rogue can feel the movement against his back. Too distracted by his predicament, he doesn’t stop to think about what Lucy’s words mean or how strained Sting sounds.

 

“This is Rogue?” Erza asks, looking him up and down. Her voice is deep, strong. It’s powerful, and very put together. A voice that obviously means business . Rogue hates to admit it, but she has Minerva beat in intimidation by a long shot. “He is treating his boyfriend right, I assume?”

 

Lucy giggles. “Erza, please. If anything, you should be asking Sting that.” her eyes flicker with mischief and Rogue feels Sting’s arms around him stiffen. Is there something he’s missing?

 

Erza frowns. She says something that might be ‘receiving’ but Rogue isn’t listening anymore. The problem with Sting resting his chin against Rogue’s shoulder is that means Rogue can feel his voice across his shoulder, feel his warm breathe slide along his neck. And Sting is right, he is very ticklish.

 

But he’s not usually _this_ ticklish. This feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin any second.

 

Luckily, Erza and Lucy have other things to do. As soon as they’re out of sight, Sting pushes Rogue off him onto the empty seat beside him.. “Sorry! I didn’t expect them to show up.”

 

“ ‘is fine,” Rogue replies, rubbing his skin, which feels like it’s melting.

 

Sting lets out a shaky laugh. “Jeez, i definitely drank too much of that stuff. My heart is thumping really bad.”

 

“Mm.” but Rogue didn’t drink any of that stuff. Why is his heart beating so hard?

 

⟡⟡⟡

 

“Oh, right,” it’s not till Wednesday that Rogue remembers that he hasn’t told Sting about the party. “Did Yukino let you know about the party?”

 

“No…”

 

“Mm.” his bad. “It’s on Friday.”

 

“Friday? Like...this Friday?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s only two days away!” Sting sits up on the couch and stares at him.

 

Rogue nods. “Yea, so?”

 

“I need to prepare!”

“Not really.”

 

“Aren’t we supposed to bring something? Food? Drinks?”

“We’re only there for Yukino. I’m sure she’s got everything handled.”

Sting flops down again with an exasperated groan. “ _Still.”_

 

“Relax,” says Rogue. “If you’re that worried about it, text Yukino.”

 

His roommate groans again. “Fiiiineeee.” which, from Sting, clearly means ‘I won’t, but I’m still going to be worked up about it’.

 

⟡⟡⟡

 

They meet with Yukino around 7:15 on Friday. She had given Rogue the address, but they had all agreed it would probably be easier just to go all together.

 

Following Minerva’s instructions, they twist and turn through the streets of the city, slowly moving to the outskirts, where the streets grew dark and empty. They were near the lake, heading into the suburbs. In the dark chill of almost december, it was even more sinister.

“She’s totally doing drugs, isn’t she?” Sting wails quietly at one point, tugging on Rogue’s sleeve. “I bet we’ll go in and she’ll have a gun. What if she has a gun, Rogue? What if she’s got tattoos?”

 

“Guns are illegal, and Minerva’s had a tattoo since she was 16. It wouldn’t be anything new.”

 

“Rooogue! This is _serious!_ ”

 

“I’m _being_ serious,” Rogue snaps back quietly. Sting grips his sleeve tighter.

 

They approach the house listed in the text. It isn’t small, with at least three floors, and several balconies. There’s a metal fence around the property, and although they can see the backyard, it’s safe to assume there’s a pool by the sound of water splashing. It’s lit up in flashing lights, and muffled music can be heard. People are outside, inside, everywhere.

 

“Well,” Yukino smiles at them hopefully. “At least it’s a house and not a backalley. That’s a good sign, right?”

 

“I can smell weed,” Sting responds, crinkling up his nose. “Do we have to be here long? Can’t we grab Minerva and go get some Tim Hortons or something?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Rogue rolls his eyes, “Minerva’s going to want to ditch this cool edgy party for donuts.” he sighs and takes Sting’s and Yukino’s hands. “Let’s just go in.”

 

“I would…” Sting mumbles, squeezing Rogue’s hand. He inhales, and straightens his back. “Right. Find Minerva. Convince her not to bad things.” he thumbs up the other two. “No problem.”

 

Yukino smiles – it almost looks genuine this time – and thumbs up Sting back. Rogue nods at both of them, since both of his hands are in use.

 

They step into the mayhem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i split this chapter up a back, which means next chapter will also start in Rogue POV !! 
> 
> thanks for reading you guys! your kudos and comments are my motivation (´∀｀•)


	6. another party, with less lucy, and more Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight is the one thing left  
> And I haven't said it yet, I'm falling
> 
>  
> 
> No one else figures out this feeling  
> And how lonely it can get  
> These words can cut right through  
> Cause all along I've knew you're sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys were worried (and by you guys I mean the two of u who usually comment — love u guys, ur comments are singlehandedly motivating this whole thing) but don't worry, angst comes later
> 
> this is the earliest i've ever updated w h a t thff
> 
> chapter song lyrics can apply to Yukino/Minerva as well

Rogue’s eyes dart around the dark room. He’s lost Sting. He’s lost Sting in this swarm of people he doesn’t know, in a place he’s never been. Fear trickles into his stomach, slow and small but steady. He isn’t good with people, but he can combat it by shielding himself with a friend. Usually that friend is Sting, or Yukino, maybe. But Sting isn’t anywhere to be seen, and he watched Yukino disappear outside with Minerva five minutes ago. Good or bad, he has no idea where they went even if he goes outside to try and find them.

 

⧉⧉⧉

 

_ The music inside is twice as loud as it was outside, and it was loud outside. Rogue grips his friends’ hands tighter, immediately overwhelmed by the large amount of people. Yukino must be too, because she moves closer until she’s almost pinned to Rogue’s side. Her free hand finds his shoulder and latches itself there. Sting, on the other hand, isn’t fazed in the least. If anything, he’s gained more confidence than before. “First things first,” he declares loudly (but really, if he isn’t loud they won’t be able to hear him) “we find Minerva.” _

 

_ “Y-yea.” Yukino nods nervously. After a quick glance around, she concludes that Minerva probably won’t be in this room. “She hates pop music.” _

 

_ To be fair, when it’s this loud, Rogue hates pop music too.  _

 

_ Sting nods back at her, pulls his hand from Rogue, and barrels straight into the buzzing crowd. Rogue and Yukino stare at the place where he disappeared, clinging to each other for dear life.  _

 

_ Eventually, he reappears and points to a doorway leading into another room. “That way,” he commands, pushing them towards the entrance. _

 

_ Minerva isn’t in the next room, or the next. Sting continues to ask random strangers, even though most of them don’t even know who Minerva is. At one point, he sees a Fairy and ushers them out of sight and into the next room before they’re able to even catch a glimpse at who it is.  _

 

_ “Who was it?” Yukino asks as they loop around.  _

 

_ “Gray. He doesn’t like parties by himself though, so that means Lucy probably dragged him here.” his gaze flickers to Rogue for just a second, almost too quick to notice. Then it moves away, scanning the new crowd. “I’ll talk to them later. Hmm, do you think that guy there knows?” _

 

_ Minerva is in the basement. It’s taken them almost twenty minutes of avoiding Gray and Sting chatting up random people to figure this out. The stairs creak as the trio descends, all three of them nervous. It’s not a pretty basement – more of an ‘under the house’ than anything comfortable. The ceiling is cement, and the floor is just plain wood tiles. Down here, the music is reduced to just heavy bass vibrating above their heads. Sting’s face crumples up when the smell of alcohol and weed hits them. _

 

_ In the center of the basement, there’s a round table with a game of poker going on. About nine people sit around the table. Despite the party upstairs consisting of mostly well off twenty-somethings, the poker game has a very diverse group, including a guy at least forty with swept-back hair and a nasty scar, and a bony man who looks impossibly old. At least three people Rogue would describe as animalistic – one of them (a blonde) is even wearing clip-on cat ears! Or...hold on, are they dog ears? _

 

_ There’s also two girls that look like they’re trying to become one person and that aggressively making out is the ritual. It clear by the empty seat beside them that one of them crawled into the other’s lap partway through the game; they aren’t even playing anymore.  No one else seems to mind the disgusting display of intense PDA, in fact, no one else at the table seems to even notice. _

 

_ At the (supposedly) head of the table, sits a man with the longest hair Rogue has ever seen. He’s watching the game with sharp eyes and a nasty grin, and Rogue makes a note to steer clear of him. Because, seriously, who grins like that at a poker game? He doesn’t even seem to be winning. Creepy.  _

 

_ Minerva watches from a distance, sitting beside a man with his hair in a bun and wearing a mask with a teeth design. She looks utterly disinterested, but then again, utterly disinterested is Minerva’s default. Rogue doesn’t recognize the man beside her, but Sting and Yukino seem to. _

 

_ “That’s the guy she was with last time,” Yukino explains, fuming. Rogue nods, and then they stand there silently, unsure on how to approach the group.  _

 

_ They don’t need to, because almost immediately a young girl brushes past them. She has bunny ears. “Tch,” she scowls, but it seems mostly directed at Yukino, which is...weird. They’ve never seen this girl before. She eyes Rogue, shrugs, and then decides to address Sting for no obvious reason. “Why are you down here?” _

 

_ “We want to talk to Minerva,” he tells her, chest involuntarily puffing up. She makes a face when he says Minerva, but goes up to her anyway. _

 

_ They exchange conversation that Rogue can’t hear, and then Minerva looks up at Yukino, who waves timidly. Minerva stares at her boredly for approximately 15 seconds and then turns back to talk to the guy beside her. Yukino flinches, her nails quickly momentarily digging into Rogue’s hand. “Wh- She asked me to come here! She can’t be ignoring me!” _

 

_ Rogue glances at her in surprise,  at her sudden anger. She has a right, of course, but he’s rarely seen Yukino flare up like that. He then looks over at Sting, who looks ready to stomp over and take Minerva by force. Carefully, he taps Sting’s finger with his own (when did they start holding hands again? Has he just grown used to it?) whispering, “Calm down. Everyone here looks like they could kick our ass, that old guy included.” _

 

_ He’s met with a look of shock. “I wasn’t going to do anything!” Sting whispers back angrily. _

 

_ “Oh,” Yukino says beside them, interrupting their quiet argument. Rogue looks up to see Minerva approaching them. She scowls at Yukino and points at the stairs behind them. _

 

_ “Upstairs, now. You aren’t allowed down here,” she explains. Her gaze trails over to Sting and Rogue. “...see you brought the loser couple.” _

 

_ Rogue bristles for reasons he doesn’t understand yet, but Sting beside him doesn’t even blink. _

 

_ “Don’t be mean.” With a softer tone of voice (is she scared? What’s going on?) Yukino reprimands Minerva, but she’s complying, pulling Rogue back up the stairs. “I told you they’d be coming.” _

 

_ As soon as they reach the main floor, Yukino pulls away from Rogue. “Is the food any good?” she asks, looking at Minerva expectantly. She frowns momentarily. “You probably haven’t tried any, huh.” _

 

_ “it’s disgusting,” comes the reply, which makes Yukino giggle. Rogue is shocked to see Minerva’s features soften considerably. Then she sees him watching them and they immediately morph back into a scowl.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I haven’t eaten anything,” Yukino continues, unaware. “Come on, I’m going to get some.” _ _   
_ _   
_ __ “Why can’t you go by yourself,” Minerva huffs but follows her without hesitation. Rogue watches Yukino pull her through the crowd.

 

_ “Girl’s got game,” Sting whistles as soon as they’re out of sight. _

 

_ “...what.” says Rogue. “Who? What are you talking about?” _

 

_ He’s met with a thousand mile stare. “How dense are you?’ Sting asks eventually. Rogue splutters in confusion and shuts up when he realizes he’s going nowhere. Sting pats his shoulder. “I’m going to find Gray and Lucy,” he says. “You can come, but if you do, you’re my boyfriend.” _

 

_ Rogue considers this. It’s only eight, but he could use something. “No thanks. I’m going to find a drink. Don’t spend too long, you know...” _

 

_ Sting shrugs. “Suit yourself. Don’t get roofied. I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” _

 

_ Rogue makes a face and Sting just gives him a ‘what? I’m just warning you’ look before taking off. _

 

_ ⧉⧉⧉ _

In a blur, Rogue’s forced out of the crowd. His back hits the wall, and he jumps in surprise. Bodies are everywhere, but none seem to see him. He’s invisible. It’s a quick relief.   
  
On the edge of the room, he returns to his senses. He can see almost everything, although turning his head to fast tends to make his vision spin. Is he buzzed? He’s definitely buzzed.    
  
_ Sting, _ he thinks, eyes darting back and forth. Where was that stupid blond?  _ Sting? Where are you, asshole? You said you’d be quick. _   
  
Rogue slides along the wall and into the living room. At this point, he’ll gratefully jump into Sting arms and pretend they’re dating if he can just find him again. 

 

Sting’s not in the living room either, but Yukino is.    
  
...Hold on. It’s just that girl that looks like Yukino! Fuck, what was her name?   
  


Shit. she’s spotted him. Rogue tries to disappear into the crowd, but it’s too late. She’s already standing in front of him. “You’re Rogue, right?”   
  
“You’re…” he racks his brain. Come on, it wasn’t that long ago! “...Lisanna.”   
  
She nods, blue eyes bright even in the dark light. “You know Lucy, right?”    
  
How could he not? “Yea…”   
  


“If you see her, can you tell me?” She looks at him hopefully. Rogue squints, unsure how to take this. Why is she so desperate to find Lucy? He already knows from Sting that they hang out a lot, so what….

 

  1. _OH._ A realisation hits. She has a crush on Lucy! That must be it. Oh boy. Rogue blushes despite it not even being about him. 



 

“Sure.” It’s unlikely that he’ll even see Lucy, (or Lisanna again, for that matter) but letting down Lisanna would be like letting down Yukino, and he can’t do that. Lisanna smiles widely at him, thanks him cheerfully and disappears, most likely looking for Lucy herself.   
  


As soon as she’s gone, Rogue slumps, relaxing his tense muscles. Should he keep looking for Sting? He hasn’t got very far.

 

He decides to sneak into the kitchen, skillfully avoiding anyone else who wants to talk to him. There’ll be food – Yukino and Minerva went to the kitchen when they split up from Rogue and Sting. At least, if he has food, he can pretend to have a full mouth if someone wants to talk to him.   
  
Almost immediately, he sees Sting, leaning against the counter, talking to a pretty girl with dark hair. There’s something about her that Rogue doesn’t like, but he can’t think of what. Is it the sharp eyes? The dark lipstick? Maybe the way she holds herself? She reminds him of someone, but who?  He frowns sharply, a heavy feeling forming in his chest when he sees Sting laugh at something she just said.   
  


Until he notices how uncomfortable Sting looks and the feeling bursts into an angry fire. Later, he’ll worry about how intense the feeling is, or why it’s stronger because of  _ that girl _ but in that moment the only thought in his head is the immediate need to _ remove that girl from Sting’s presence. _ __   
  


He creeps up behind Sting, listening in to the conversation. “That’s...really, it’s fine in here. Too cold out there for me. Nah, no thanks.” it’s clear in his voice he’s uncomfortable and trying to hide it, but the girl just. can’t. tell.  Rogue wants to hit something.   
  


“It’ll be so nice outside!” she continues, trying to convince him. “The stars are out, and it’ll be the two of us…” 

 

“U-um…that’s not…” Sting takes a step back, almost directly into Rogue. 

 

In her defense, she seems really nice, just a bit wasted. And hitting on the completely wrong person. But Rogue is done. He steps forward, closing the space between him and Sting. Sting jumps as Rogue sends the darkest glare he can muster at the girl. “Go.” 

 

The girl is mostly unaffected. “Who are you?” she asks, looking vaguely irritated. 

 

Maybe, he wouldn’t have done this if he was 100% sober. Maybe he wouldn’t have done it if he had stopped to think for just one second, but losing Sting and having to fend off all those strangers is making him irritable and the alcohol has made him impulsive.

 

He throws an arm around Sting’s shoulder, pulling him back. “His  _ boyfriend,”  _ he growls, muscles tense. “Beat it.”

 

Sting makes a noise that sounds like he’s drowning. The girl scowls. “Alright, whatever, chillax.” she backs away. Rogue smiles to himself, watching her disappear out of the kitchen.   
  


Sting rounds on Rogue as soon as she’s gone. “Outside! Now!” he snaps, shoving Rogue off him. Rogue doesn’t have time to think about how the action feels like rejection, because Sting has thrown him into two huge dudes.

 

And spilled their drinks all over them.

 

There’s a moment where no one moves. Rogue stares at the one of the guys, watching the beer stain spread across his shirt. Then Sting whispers: “ _ Run. _ ” 

 

They book it, sprinting out the open deck door as the two guys barrel after them, covered in beer. 

 

“Why did you shove me?” Rogue demands, as they make a beeline for the trees.

 

“Why did you say you were my boyfriend!” Sting demands back, almost tripping on a fallen log.

 

“You looked uncomfortable! You aren’t even into girls!”

 

“Yea, but...That’s not the point!” 

 

Rogue feels a branch drag across his leg and winces as it rips through his sock. He shuts his mouth momentarily — parkouring over the forest floor – away from angry drunk men – requires him to breath.   
  
The trees open up to a beach and Sting grinds to a halt. “Did we lose them?”    
  


Rogue stops beside him. The air is silent. In the distance, they can hear loud music and the occasional shout, but nothing nearby. “I think we’re okay,” he puffs, and leans against a tree.   
  
It’s cold. Rogue realizes belatedly that neither of them brought out jackets, and he can see his breath. Running may have warmed them up, but only temporarily.    
  


There’s no clouds, and he can see the stars. See the dark waves of the lake lapping against the shore. He hadn’t realized the party was so close to the lake. It’s peaceful over here. Rogue is at peace.

 

Until Sting whacks him across the head. “What,” he fumes, blue eyes glittering. “Were you thinking?” the question is punctuated by two more hits. 

 

Rogue looks at him, head stinging from the blows, and thinks about how blue Sting’s eyes are, even in this low light. About how much bluer and prettier they’d be in the light. The thought is immediate followed by:  _ what the fuck,  _ and:  _ I’m drunk. I’m so drunk. I have to be drunk. _

 

Instead of all these thoughts, he just replies with, “Sorry?” 

 

Sting just throws his hands up. “I was literally about to find Lucy and tell her we were having trouble and that you were staying at a friend’s because we ‘need space’. _ Literally _ . That girl had just distracted me. Now more people think we’re dating. You know who saw you do that? Cana. you know who’s friends with Cana?  _ Lucy. _ ”   
  
“Sorry,” Rogue says again, looking away. “I didn’t...I couldn’t think of anything else.” He doesn’t even know why he said it, it just...slipped out. This is a mess. Rogue is a mess. A buzzed, impulsive mess. He should’ve known, it was just one favor, a one time thing… Sting doesn’t want to be in this fake relationship any longer than necessary.   
  


Neither do you, he prompts the thought to come. You don’t want to either, right?

 

Right, he thinks, wondering why it feels false.

 

To his surprise, Sting laughs, loud and almost forcefully. Rogue watches him with wide eyes, wondering whether to join in or get help. Hello? 911? My best friend has lost it. Please send help.

 

Instead, he looks away awkwardly, out on the lake. Out on the dark waves. Eyes following the line where the sand ended and the trees began, and then back at Sting, who is now in his knees, still in hysterics. He traces Sting’s shaking back with his eyes and sighs, allowing himself a tired smile.

 

His best friend was an idiot.

 

We’re both idiots, he thinks with a warm feeling in his chest.

 

♪♪♪

 

I am so, so fucked, Sting thinks, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. It’s all he can think as he laughs harder and harder, sinking farther on his knees into the sand. I am never getting away from this stupid fucking crush, am I? 

 

At this point, he’s not sure if the pain in his chest is caused by laughing or something else.

 

He’s aware to some degree that Rogue is staring at him, but he just can’t stop. There’s something hilariously wrong about this whole situation. Something ironic – he’s trying to get out, and Rogue, Rogue! is dragging him back in. Dragging him back into holding hands and being affectionate.

 

He drags in a ragged, full breath, letting the air fill his lungs completely. His head rests on the ground (he knows he’s getting sand in it) and he sighs. “God.” 

 

“Sorry,” Rogue says again after a moment of quiet.

 

Sting just peeks at him between his arms, then glances away. He wants to say it’s not okay, that he doesn’t want to fake this again, but he can’t. It’s a lie and deep down he knows he craves any kind of affection from Rogue. And sure, this isn’t real, but Sting’ll take what he can get, even if it’s just going to hurt him after it’s done. 

 

“It’s fine. I guess...I guess I have another favor?” he sits up, shivering a bit at the cold and shaking sand from his head. Rogue just looks at him, looking deadpanned. It means he’s confused and it makes Sting grin. He has to look away though, because otherwise he knows the words won’t come out right.

 

“Pretend to be my boyfriend when girls hit on me?” he looks back at Rogue to see him blinking owlishly. Then he laughs, loudly and genuinely and snorts and it’s not a pretty laugh at all but Sting feels his entire heart melt into warm goop. He did that. He made Rogue laugh like that, a laugh that he rarely got to hear. 

 

Oh, don’t be gross, he thinks crossly.

 

“Okay,” laughs Rogue, breaking into his thoughts. Sting spares him a smile and stands up.

 

gesturing to the trees behind them, he brushes himself off. “We should head back, it’s cold.” 

 

Now that he’s said it, it is cold. It’s freezing. Rogue nods, and takes a step towards him, and then Lucy’s voice sounds loudly around the corner. She sounds worried. There are other people with her. Sting picks out Erza, Lisanna, Yukino...Minerva? They’re getting closer.

 

“Fuck, Rogue, hide.” it’s less of an order and more of a warning, because he’s grabbing Rogue’s shirt and dragging them into the bushes. Rogue obliges without a word, and Sting worries that it’s because he’s growing accustomed to it. They sink into the (basically dead) bushes. “Let’s try to crawl until they can’t see us. Then we can run back,” Sting whispers.

 

“Why are we hiding anyway?” comes the question. Sting shoots him a glare and Rogue shrugs. “We’re in a bush, Sting.”

 

Fair point. “Lucy’s there,” he explains. “And Lucy’s got this weird idea that since we’re ‘dating’,” he raised a hand to make quote signs, “that we’re going to be acting all lovey clingy mushy around each other. We could go back, but it’s a bit late unless you want to jump out of the bushes like a “hooligan.”

 

“Shh,” Rogue replies, ignoring him. He splutters angrily. 

 

“No! Lucy’s crazy and so is Erza, I’m n–”

 

“No,” Rogue hisses. “Shh!”

 

They freeze. Lucy’s talking to Yukino but Sting can’t make out what they’re saying. Then– “STING? ROGUE!”

 

“They’re looking for us!” Sting realizes out loud. “Why?”

 

“We know you’re out here! I saw you run out here!”

 

“Is that Lisanna?” Rogue asks and is met with a nod. Sting makes a move to keep crawling, but Rogue stops him. “Stop, you’re shaking the bushes.”

 

He stops and they sit, listening, waiting. The wind blows over the lake and Sting shivers again, really feeling the cold. He isn’t wearing a jacket and the ground is hard and frozen. Hopefully Lucy will leave soon and they can run and go back inside where it’s not so cold. Sting’s fingers are stiffening, it won’t be long until they start to hurt from the cold. He shoves them inside his shirt.

 

“Sting!” 

 

Fuck, that’s really close. There isn’t much shelter in this bush, and if they come much closer they’re definitely going to see them. “Why are we sitting in a bush? Quick, Rogue, we need an excuse,” Sting hisses under his breath.

 

“What?” Rogue frowns. “Wait, hold on, why?”

 

“They are going to find us,” Sting whispers urgently. “We need an excuse to why we’re just chilling in a bush!”

 

“Oh,” says Rogue, and then, “um.”

 

Which clearly means he has an idea, but he doesn’t to share it. Sting listens, Lucy’s seemed to have backtracked for the moment, but she’ll be back any minute. They don’t have much longer!

 

It must be the stress of the moment, but he can’t think of anything. His mind is totally, completely blank. Desperately, he turns back to Rogue. “Come on! What is it? You have something, don’t you?”

 

“Not-not really, uh, i can only think of one thing…” he goes quiet. 

 

Sting frowns. “Dude, they are coming. Spit it out.”

 

“It’s not...it’s kind of… um.”

 

Lucy’s back. “Rogue! Where the fuck– STING. GET OUT HERE. RIGHT NOW.”

 

Sting does not, no matter how scary Lucy’s being. “I don’t care!”  he snaps at Rogue, a bit louder than he should’ve. “If it gives us a good reason to be in a bush at nine in the night, just. Let’s just do it, quickly. Rogue, please.”

 

He can hear Lucy’s footsteps and he knows Rogue can too. His friend is looking even more nervous than himself, eyes not meeting his gaze and nails picking at his hands. It’s only a few seconds that Rogue is dead still, but it feels like eternity, sitting there, waiting for Lucy to find them.

 

“Sorry,” Rogue murmurs eventually, quietly. “I’m really, very sorry.”

 

“Wh–” but he can’t even get the question out before Rogue moves in a blur of limbs and is on top of him, basically straddling – nevermind, he’s definitely straddling – him, hands pulling his head up into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ oh shti a kiss
> 
> next chapter will probably be in Sting's pov. i've given up on trying to predict it.. POVS will be at random from now on
> 
> fun fact! this entire chapter was planned and written around the line "you aren't even into girls" and Rogue acting on jealousy


	7. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can coax the cold right out of me  
> Drape me in your warmth
> 
> I can be the subject of your dreams  
> Your sickening desire
> 
> So kiss me on the mouth and set me free  
> But please don't bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first part of this screaming. Who knew i was so squeamish.. it’s just a kiss..  
> wow man look at me go like what is this?? THREE updates in a month?? I'm on fire. gd. gonna aim for 4 yaaaaa  
> @ everyone who kudos: ur cool!!  
> @ everyone who comments: I love you!!!!!! so cool!!! thank u for brightening my day and giving me a reason to write!!!!

_ Holy fuck. _

 

Sting is screaming. In his head. His mouth is occupied, he can’t really make coherent sounds with it except maybe some panicked mumbling as his back hits the cold ground. 

 

Rogue’s lips are pressed against his, in a frantic, awkward way. His hands are cupping Sting’s face, and  _ oh my god, so warm.  _ He can feel Rogue’s body pressed against his own, the heat of it turning him to mush.

 

Sting practically melts, brain hazy as he seemingly recuperates, lips moving to actually join with Rogue’s. On some level of his distracted brain, the realization that this isn’t  _ right  _ tries to force it’s way up, but the level that’s dying in pleasure drowns it out furiously. 

 

Jesus  _ Christ,  _ he can practically taste Rogue. He can definitely taste the hint of alcohol he had probably half an hour ago. His throat betrays him and he moans a little, his hands gripping around Rogue’s neck. 

 

And  _ then  _ Rogue hesitates, almost, almost pulling away, and Sting comes crashing back to earth, suddenly aware of how awkward this is. He opens his eyes a smidgen, peeking up at Rogue, who still has his own eyes closed, thank goodness. But now they’ve hit a stalemate – Sting’s frozen, muscles tensing up.

 

Luckily – perhaps not so luckily? The next few days will be torture, Sting’ll learn – Lucy interrupts. The bushes rip aside and suddenly she’s standing above them, yelping in surprise.

 

“I knew it – god, you guys,  _ so gross, _ ” she groans, and Rogue flies off Sting so fast it’s like he’s been burned. Sting lays on the ground, dazed. He can hear Rogue getting up, brushing himself off, and Lucy, still complaining. “I mean, i knew, but –  _ fuck,  _ seriously? Seeing it in person, I’m gonna go home and bleach my eyes.”

 

Somewhere, Lisanna giggles. “ _ Lucy, please. _ What else were you expecting? At least Rogue still has his clothes on.”

 

“Hey,” Rogue grumbles, embarrassed.

 

Carefully, Sting raises his hand up to his lips. He touches them gently, fingers ghosting over the place where he still feels Rogue. His face is on fire, and he’s pretty sure his heart is in overdrive. He groans and drops his head in the dirt for the second time this night.

 

“Sting!” Erza snaps this time, and Sting rolls over quickly, pulling himself to his feet. He stumbles out of the bushes, trying hard not to look at Rogue. Oh god, oh  _ god.  _ How is he suppose to face Rogue after making that noise while they making out? After kissing him back? There’s no way Rogue doesn’t know he’s completely in love with him at this point.

 

He peeks a glance at Rogue. Rogue is staring at him. He snaps his head away and hurries to talk to Lucy. 

 

“You animal,” Lucy teases, shoving him. Sting forces a laugh, bumping her back. 

 

“Can’t i have a moment alone with my boyfriend without you barging in?” he jokes, frowning comedically. Lucy laughs at him. 

 

“Nope. Yukino was looking for you. She’s worried. You should probably talk to her.”

 

“Okay,” Sting crosses the clearing to Yukino, who’s standing next to Minerva, surprisingly close. He wonders how she got away with that in front of all these Fairies. Minerva glares at him for half a second, then looks away, probably biting down a mean comment. He should be grateful, he supposes, if Yukino wasn’t here she’d have insulted him ages ago. But that’s just how their friendship is! Sting knows Minerva doesn’t actually hate him, and that she doesn’t mean all those rude things she says. Right? Right? 

 

Sting has no idea if Minerva means all those rude things she says.

 

“Did you want me for something, Yukino?” Sting asks.

 

Yukino pats his arm roughly. “I didn’t know where you were!” she explains. “And then Lucy said that her friend...lisanna? Yea, Lisanna, saw you guys being chased by those guys and Lucy was worried there’d be a fight but I guess you weren’t really being chased, huh.” she leans closer and makes a meaningful gesture towards Minerva. If Minerva notices, she doesn’t let on. “Should I tell her about…”

 

“Um,” Sting’s face is red again. He’s not sure what’s wrong with it. Just before he can decide whether or not to tell Minerva about their predicament (he can still feel Rogue’s warmth and he blushes a little deeper) Minerva turns to him.

 

“So you two are finally official, huh.” she’s looking at him through bored eyes.

 

“What?” he asks. 

 

“Don’t act  _ dumb,  _ Sting. I know you’ve been dating for years. Since what? Second year of highschool? It’s not my fault you’ve been too embarrassed to tell everyone.”

 

_ She actually thinks – all these years she’s been teasing us about being in love, she’s actually thought –  _

 

“Oh my god,” Sting whispers while Yukino splutters in surprise. They look at each other. 

 

_ She thinks you’ve been dating Rogue for years,  _ Yukino communicates with her face. Quickly, she mouths  _ should I tell her? _

 

Sting shakes his head, forcing back a laugh. This is ridiculous. Minerva, observant Minerva, thinks they’ve been together for  _ years?  _ Years! He thinks back to every offhanded comment she’s made:  _ Sting, are you bringing your boyfriend? Rogue, why is your boyfriend such a moron? Come on lovebirds, don’t be gross. Oh, Sting, do you need your boyfriend to comfort you? _

 

“Right,” he replies to Minerva. “W-well, I’m going to go find my boyfriend. Who I’m dating. Bye.” Then he practically sprints across the clearing back to Rogue, who’s being teamed against by Lucy and Lisanna. Erza is nowhere to be seen.

  
  


He begins to approach them, but then Rogue sees him and they make eye-contact and Sting almost turns around and goes back to Yukino out of sheer embarrassment and fear. He freezes in place. Without thinking, he touches his lips again, feeling how tender they are. Then he remembers Rogue might be still watching him, and his arm snaps down in a flash. 

 

An arm curls around his own. He looks down. It’s Lisanna, pulling him towards Rogue and Lucy.

 

“We’re heading back,” she explains cheerfully. “I can’t be in this cold any longer.” she shoves him (Lisanna, Sting realizes, is surprisingly strong.) towards his boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. 

 

“Hey,” says Rogue, quietly.

 

“Hi,” squawks Sting, also quiet. 

 

“Let’s  _ gooo,”  _ calls Lucy, not very quietly. 

 

He shakily holds out his hand. To his surprise, Rogue takes it without hesitation.

 

♦♦♦

 

_ Betrayal,  _ Rogue thinks, in regards to his own brain. He shots a glance at Sting,  _ just  _ to make sure he hasn’t developed the ability to read minds in the last two minutes. Luckily, Sting is distracted, talking to Yukino.

 

_ Stop that, for fuck’s sake!  _ He thinks desperately, as the sound Sting made plays for the twelfth time in his head. He’s glad it’s dark, no one seems to see how red his face is. 

 

Oh  _ god.  _ He kissed Sting.  _ Oh god,  _ he was kissing Sting! What was he thinking? True, there had been no other options, but did he really have to– Rogue hangs his head. Sting is never going to talk to him again. He’ll have to apologize when they go home, but for now, there’s not much he can do.

 

And Sting made that noise.

 

a warm, twisty feeling works it way up Rogue’s chest. 

 

He liked that sound. He won’t ever _ , ever, _ admit that out loud, but he...liked that noise. More than he wants to. And he can still feel Sting under him – this is a bad,  _ bad  _ route to go down, his hands are starting to sweat.

 

_ I must have caught him off guard,  _ Rogue decides.  _ It’s why he didn’t struggle at all. He was in shock and couldn’t react. _

 

_ Still… why did it feel like Sting was pulling me closer? _

 

He isn’t given time to mull it over. Lucy and Erza appear beside him, with Lisanna close behind.

 

“I am...disappointed.” Erza frowns at him. Rogue avoids eye contact, feeling intimidated. Wait...why is  _ she  _ disappointed? She doesn’t even know them!

 

Lisanna giggles. “Relax, Erza, it’s not like they were making out in public. Let them live a little.” Rogue doesn’t miss the glance she gives Lucy, who isn’t paying attention.

 

Lucy snorts. “Sure, you can talk Lisanna. You weren’t the one who  _ walked in on them.”  _ she sends a pointed glare at Rogue, as if the entire thing is his fault. Maybe it is.

 

Lisanna just rolls her eyes and bounces on the spot. “Why are we out here anyway? I’m cold.”

 

Rogue moves to get away from the three girls, tries to back out silently (something he’s usually good at) but Lucy catches him by the arm. “We just have Yukino comes back. She’s the one who was worried,” she explains, but it isn’t directed to him.

 

So Rogue is stuck, almost squashed between three girls who he barely knows. He only half listens to what they’re saying, but his mind begins to spiral off. Sting’s hands around his neck, the way it felt, Rogue wanted to kiss him harder, longer–

 

Which is why he froze up, as he is freezing up now.  _ Stop this. I’m so drunk. Oh god, what is wrong with me? _

 

He happens to look up – and catch Sting’s eye as he’s walking towards them. Sting freezes and looks down, eyes wide. Rogue blinks, feeling his heart plummet. It must be because he overstepped a boundary big-time. Wrecked their friendship, that’s why he feels so guilty and sad.

 

But he and Sting have both done stupid things to almost wreck their friendship, so why does this feel so decisive? Why does this feel worse than the others?

 

_ I just want to go home,  _ Rogue thinks, the first solid thought in a while.

 

As Lisanna declares they head back, Sting appears beside him, looking shell-shocked. Rogue jumps at his sudden appearance. As a reflex, he greets him. “hey.”

 

“Hi,” Sting replies in a small voice. Somewhere close by, Lucy ushers them to leave, loudly. Sting’s attention turns to her for half of a second, only noticeable by the tilt of his head, and then he raises a hand out to Rogue.

 

Rogue takes it immediately, partly because he needs the temporary comfort, and partly because  _ maybe  _ Sting isn’t mad at him. Also because it’s a habit by now.

 

Rogue doesn’t notice the way Sting seems to freeze up and blink slowly at their joined hands. He doesn’t really notice the way Sting hesitates before he smiles shakily at him, and then carefully curls his fingers around Rogue’s.

 

They walk back. The only people who seem interested in talking are Lucy and Lisanna, who lead the pack through the woods (on an actual path, instead of crashing through the bushes,  _ Sting,)  _ back to the party. 

 

Nothing at the party seems to have changed. Music is still blaring, and there’s still so many people around. Rogue mentally tallies up the time they’ve been gone, and rounds it to a nice forty-five minutes. Not long at all, contrary to what it felt like. He is so, so tired. He just wants to go home. 

 

It’s nice to step inside and feel the warm air against his bare arms. His free hand is freezing, and he holds it against the crook of his neck to compare them, and regrets it when it sends extra chills down his back.

 

“Oh! Oh! I loooove this song,” Lucy exclaims, bouncing once on her toes. She spins around. “Okay, I just had the best idea. What if we went and found a karaoke place? I haven’t been to one in forever!”

 

Sting’s mouth slowly turns up into a wicked grin. “Yea, sounds fun. I’m down.”

 

Lucy looks over everyone. “You coming? Erza, Lisanna? Rogue? You too Yukino, it’s not embarrassing if you have a nice voice,” she adds when Yukino tries to protest.

 

“Oh.” Rogue slumps in a bit. “No, I’m.. I’m really tired. I’m going to go home.” he looks at Sting, almost asking him  _ is this okay? _

 

Sting meets him with uncharacteristically sad eyes, but he manages to smile charmingly when they lock with Rogue’s. “Okay! That’s fine, goodnight Rogue.”

 

Lucy clicks her tongue, and they remember that everyone is watching them. “We better go find Gray,” she says, earning a nod from Erza.

 

“Right,” Rogue says, and then remembers his coat by the other entrance. “Yea. I’m going to… go get my coat. I’ll um. I’ll see you at home?”

 

Sting nods a little too fast. “If you’re not asleep,” he jokes with a forced chuckle. No one else around them seems to notice this act. Rogue feels the weight on his shoulders grow heavier. He  _ really  _ feels like a shit friend.

 

“Okay,” he says, feeling Sting beginning to pull away. 

 

“Okay,” says Sting, and then, loud enough for the other to hear, “I love you, babe. See you.”

 

Rogue stares at him, and suddenly he can’t hear the party around them. Sting pulls away, hand slipping from Rogue’s, but Rogue doesn’t notice until the warmth from his hand vanishes. He slowly looks down at it, brings it up to his chest, which is suddenly in overdrive.

 

_ Oh,  _ he thinks. His legs feel weak.  _ Oh, oh, oh. _

 

_ Oh,  _ he thinks again, dragging his legs towards where he left his coat. His body is in autopilot, mind in overdrive.

 

_ Oh. _

 

He steps outside. The cold air bites at his exposed skin. He stares at the road, not really focusing.

 

_ I love you, babe. _

 

Rogue covers his face, finding it surprising warm. He slumps a bit with his face in his hands.

 

_ I have a fucking crush on my best friend. _

  
  
He sprints almost the entire distance back home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very difficult chapter to write so that’s my excuse if it’s a bit choppy… it was hard to convey properly what each of them was feeling? Rogue’s conflicted because he liked the kiss and he can’t figure out why and he feels bad about forcing himself on Sting. Sting’s in a mess because he thinks Rogue’s realized that he’s in love with him. hope it wasn't too confusing
> 
> It's also shorter than i was planning but! I wanted to end it there it seemed fitting hahA 
> 
> (Rogue you fucking dumbass how can you make out with someone and STILL...not realize...ur fkugnc in love......tf.
> 
> So Yes! Both of them are aware of their feelings now ohoho the plot thickens (or just begins to develop lmao..)
> 
> thanks 4 reading!


	8. Sting and Rogue try to talk about their situation. It's a bit awkward.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, baby, baby  
> How was I supposed to know  
> That something wasn't right here?  
> Oh, baby, baby  
> I shouldn't have let you go  
> And now you're out of sight, yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was kind of difficult, so I hope it's okay! I know I said i would aim for before September, but oops. life got busy!! 
> 
> I very much appreciate everyone who supports this, I love you all aaaaaaa

_ I’m not going to get drunk,  _ Sting thinks, as he sips his third drink. But wasn’t it was easier to try and numb the dread he was feeling? To just...forget what he did, if just for a moment. His chest feels like a stone, sinking deep into his flesh. He rethinks his original statement, and prepares to down the entire glass.

 

Lisanna steals his drink from his hand and drains it in one go. Sting gapes at her. “I-  _ paid,” _

 

“Mm.” Lisanna smiles at him and swallows the rest in his mouth. “Can’t have you drunk yet. You sing better when you’re drunk.”

 

“I do?” Sting tries to remember, but every karaoke is a blur. Actually, almost everything he’s trying to remember is a blur.

 

“No, I lied.” she sticks her tongue out at him. On the stage, Gray and Lucy very drunkenly sing a duet. Sting wasn’t paying attention to the song before, but now that he is…

 

“Ke$ha.” he realizes, looking at Lisanna for confirmation. Lisanna shrugs, even though Sting knows that she knows. Of course it is, Ke$ha is a very distinct singer.

 

They watch Lucy and Gray run into each other, land on their butts and then burst into abrupt laughter. Lisanna stands. “I need to piss,” she announces and flounces away from Sting.

 

Sting contemplates another drink, and then decides against it. 

 

They had found Gray, but lost Minerva, much to Yukino’s dismay. She had said something along the lines “karaoke is dumb” using a lot more degrading language, and then slipped away, probably back down to the basement.

 

Yukino is sitting by the stage, waiting her turn. Or more like dreading the moment Lucy finishes with Gray and drags her and Erza to dance to Britney Spears with her.

 

Sting heaves out a sigh, and pulls out his phone. He has a message from Natsu. None from Rogue. Which is what he expected, but not what he hoped. Figures, though. He probably wouldn’t want to talk to him, either, given the situation. 

 

(however, he isn’t making the move to contact Rogue first either. He tries not to think about it.)

 

He swipes his phone open.

 

**Fireball** : sting

**Fireball** : sting

**Fireball:** Lucy isnt respondin

**Fireball** : tell gray he’s a dick 4 me ok

 

**< 3 Harambe <3:** wtf why

**< 3 Harambe <3** : what he do

 

**Fireball:** nothng im just pissd

**Fireball** : how many times a week do u hav 2 change ur NAME

 

**< 3 Harambe <3** : dicks out

 

**Fireball** : fuk off

**Fireball** : its a DED MEME

**Fireball** : dead

**Fireball** : fuck watvr

 

**< 3 Harambe <3** : lmao

**< 3 Harambe <3** : why arnt u karaokeing w us?

 

**Fireball** : LUCY wdnt let me COM

**Fireball** : JUSR CUZ I HAVE A TEST TMRW

**Fireball** : >:((( 

 

**< 3 Harambe <3** : k

  
  
  


Sting stifles a laugh. Natsu’s going to fail his test if he’s texting Sting (and Lucy, apparently). But Sting doesn’t mind, because Natsu’s absolutely terrible typing skills are funny enough on their own to temporarily cheer him up. He shoots a glance towards the stage, seeing Yukino being dragged into the middle. 

 

_ Why do fairies always get drunk fastest?  _ He wonders absentmindedly, seeing Lucy, Gray and Erza’s rosy red cheeks.

 

**< 3 Harambe <3** : img_570 received 

 

**Fireball:** if i see 1 mor pic of that fukin 

**Fireball:** gorila im goin 2 punch u

**Fireball:** FUCK OFF!!!!!!

 

**< 3 Harambe <3** :  ( ˘ ³˘) ~ ♥

 

Sting snickers and puts his phone down to watch Yukino stumble through the lyrics, Lucy and Erza encouraging her along. She’s beet-red, but smiling, voice rising when she’s confident with the lyrics. Sting smiles. She looks happy.

 

His phone buzzes and he reaches to pick it up, ready to reply to whatever angry profanity Natsu has for him with over the top flirting.

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)** now 

Sorry. I honestly couldn’t think of anything else.

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)** now 

I understand if I made you uncomfortable...when I.. kissed you.

 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ a blush creeps its way up Sting cheeks. He puts down his phone for a moment, suddenly nervous. Is that what Rogue was acting weird about? Perhaps he  _ hasn’t  _ realized Sting is head over heels for him?

 

A nice sediment. Sting shakes his head. He was pretty...obvious. And he said—

 

Sting flushes. Even thinking of the words makes him anxious and embarrassed. I love you? Why would he say that? He covers his mouth, the words still ringing in his head. And the look on Rogue’s face when he did…he looked mortified.  _ I  _ **_feel_ ** _ mortified,  _ he thinks.

 

He slides his phone open, watching the thumbnails dance on the homescreen.

 

Lisanna pops down beside him. “Oo _ ooh,”  _ she gasps, tapping him on the arm. “You are so going up next.”

 

“I went, like, three songs ago,” Sting scoffs, opening instagram and not his messaging app.

 

“Everyone else has gone,” Yukino plops beside him, sounding out of breath. “I’ve got the perfect song for you!” 

 

“Oh no,” Sting says.

 

“Oh yes,” Lisanna says joyfully, as she and Yukino pull Sting onto the stage and drop a mic in his hands. “It's a good song,” she adds when she sees the look on Sting’s face. “Your favourite.”

 

Sting shoots a look at the screen, but the title has already faded. The music kicks up — 2000s pop.  _ Oh no,  _ Sting thinks, and Britney Spears’ voice cuts through the music.

 

“ _ Oh baby baby” _

 

For a second, Sting forgets to sing. Not because he doesn't know the words — he does. Embarrassingly well.

 

“ _ Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know?” _

 

Sting whips his head around to glare at Lucy and Yukino, all the while keeping perfect tune with the song. Yukino waves at him, and Lucy flashes a shit-eating grin his way. He mentally flips them off, even as they cheer him on through the entire song.

 

Eventually, the pop music goes to his head, and Sting finds himself enjoying it immensely. It’s  _ just  _ Britney, and an old one at that, but by the end he’s stalking up and down the tiny stage like an actual celebrity, incorporating dance moves to go along with the rhythm. By the end of the song, he’s out of breath and absolutely beaming.

 

Lucy and Lisanna let up a (admittedly, probably ironic) cheer and clap loudly. Yukino smiles at him as he steps off the stage and hands the microphone to Gray, whose chosen a classic punk rock song.

His phone is sitting right where he left it. Sting looks at it, it hasn’t even been touched. He lifts it – no new messages. Specifically, from people that aren’t Rogue. His good mood fizzles into a emotionless grey. He picks up the phone, and opens his messages app.

 

_ Fine,  _ he thinks.  _ Better get this over with. _

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

Sorry. I honestly couldn’t think of anything else.

 

**You**

dont worry about it! you did what you had to do, didn’t you?

 

**You**

and you arent a bad kisser, so it wasnt awful

 

**_Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)_ ** _ is typing . . . _

 

Sting slams his phone down, face bright red. What was he  _ thinking, saying something like that?? _

 

His phone buzzes. Tentatively, he peeks at it.

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

uhm. .

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

thank you..

 

_ Huh,  _ thinks Sting, looking it over.  _ Rogue usually capitalizes his sentences.  _ Carefully, he replies back.

 

**You**

are you okay though? you_

 

_ Hm. _ he pauses, unsure how to proceed. Inevitably, he’ll have to confess now that Rogue probably knows, but he doesn’t want to be the one to breach the topic. He’ll wait until Rogue confronts him about it.

 

**You**

are you okay though? you looked uncomfortable when I said I love you

 

**You**

and i know you dont do parties well..but still

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

Did I? 

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

I wasn’t.

 

That’s a...very short answer. Sting frowns, feeling worried. He’s about to type back when Rogue texts again.

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

It was just because Lucy was there wasn’t it? I have no reason to be bothered.

 

**You**

u sure? we can call this all off if u want..

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

I swear I’m okay. I’m not very bothered by all this fake-affection...we are best friends, it’s not  _ that  _ weird.

 

**_Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)_ ** _ is typing . . . _

 

**_Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)_ ** _ is typing . . . _

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone I’m chasing after.

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

What about you? Do you want to call it off?

 

Why is Rogue talking about chasing after someone? Romance? That’s not something he’s ever been worried about. Sting frowns as he types up his response.

 

**You**

What r u talking about? 

 

**You**

and if ur sure! Im good, Ill take this over being snuggled by creepy Bob euhhhhg

 

**You**

see you later 

 

**Rogue (*ﾉ∀`*)**

Haha. okay. Later. 

 

Sting slides his phone into his pocket as Lucy declares a  _ Grand finale,  _ and Bohemian Rhapsody blasts through the speakers. He jumps on stage to join the others. “ _..is this just fantasy~?” _

 

•••

 

The lights are off when Sting crashes through the door half asleep and trips over a pair of shoes. For a moment he thinks Rogue went to bed — it's eleven, but that's not important — but then he hears the tv.

 

Quietly, pulling off his boots as he goes, he tiptoes into the living room, muffled by the loud voices and flashing lights. Rogue’s lying the length of the couch, unmoving. Sting steps behind the couch, out of view. A minute passes with no movement whatsoever from his roommate, and Sting assumes he's asleep. He moves to switch off the tv when Rogue sighs deeply and shuffles a bit.

 

“I'm home,” he announces. Rogue jumps and spins his head around to look at Sting staring down at him and jumps again. Sting grins at his surprised face. “What’re you watching?”

 

“Sting!” yelps Rogue, struggling to sit up. “Hey. You're back. Early. It's early. For you.” He frowns briefly, eyes flicking back to the tv. “How…um. how was it?”

 

It's Sting’s turn to frown. “As good as karoke gets,” he replies quickly. “Do you want to talk?”

 

Rogue looks away, down at his hands. Sting lifts his legs over the back of the couch and settles down beside him. He waits. Rogue stares at his hands. Sting’s eyes trail to the tv. He can wait. If he tries to force Rogue into anything, he knows it’ll end in Rogue literally not speaking for hours. He’s been through this before.

 

“We...did talk,” Rogue says finally. 

 

“Briefly, over  _ text,”  _ Sting scoffs, then immediately changes his tone when he sees Rogue’s head duck like he’s been reprimanded. He reaches down to lift Lector into his lap, who’s just started meowing at him. Tenderly, he strokes his cat. “I mean, is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

 

Rogue looks at him, and Sting catches an emotion in his face that almost looks like fear, but it disappears as soon as Rogue looks away to stare at the tv. “...about what…?”

 

Sting sighs and then immediately yawns because of it. He  _ really  _ doesn’t want to be confessing his feelings at 11pm while watching a shitty sitcom, but Rogue keeps curving it himself. “Is it going to be weird between us now?” he asks, fiddling with a piece of Lector’s fur that’s a bit longer than the rest. Lector swats him for it. 

 

“..no-not...It doesn’t have to be,” Rogue says quickly, eyes jumping from place to place, but never meeting Sting’s gaze. “We’re still friends.” He says friends carefully, like it’s definition has changed since the last time he used it and he’s not sure how it works now.

 

“Friends that made out in a bush,” Sting replies, and laughs, because how absurd is that? He glances at Rogue, who would usually get a kick out of that, maybe smirk a bit or roll his eyes, but this time he just ducks his head further.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Sting blanches, not expecting the reaction. “No, it’s okay,” he bumps Rogue with his shoulder, misses the way Rogue tenses when they make contact. “To be honest, Lucy’s been suspicious of us because of Erza, so it’s better this way?” he’s not sure what he’s saying, but if it cheers Rogue up, that’s alright.

 

Rogue frowns again. “You said you were going to tell them we broke up,” he says quietly.

 

“They probably wouldn’t have believed me,” Sting replies cheerfully, still not really listening to himself. Rogue shrugs in a  _ if you say so,  _ kind of way. 

 

They lapse into silence, watching two character awkwardly try to flirt. Rogue’s eyebrows furrow when the laugh track plays, forced and obnoxious. He taps his chin a couple times, a clear sign that he’s thinking about something complex. He does it when he’s planning.

 

“Do you…” Rogue starts, then yawns. He tries again. “Sting?”

 

“Mm?” 

 

“Do you have a crush on someone?”

 

Sting stares at him, taken back. Is this a roundabout way of getting him to confess? 

 

“What.”

 

Rogue waves his hand. “I mean,” he splutters, trying to find his words. “I know you would  _ tell  _ me, usually, but if this..whole dating thing is getting in the way of you and…” he waves his hand around again. 

 

Sting stares at him, shocked into complete silence.

 

“What?” he asks in disbelief. “How did you even– to that– how–” he isn’t  _ wrong,  _ per say, Sting  _ definitely  _ has a crush, but he’s so off base Sting doesn’t know where to begin. Any thought that maybe Rogue knows Sting is in love with him goes out the window.  _ Who  _ on Earth would he even have a crush on to begin with? He hasn’t  _ liked  _ anyone since high school. 

 

Memories of guys he pretended to like, pretended to get with just to make Rogue jealous come flooding in and he aggressively shoves them out. Not that they ever worked – Rogue would just eye the new guy or  _ mhm  _ indifferently just like everything else and Sting would forget about them within a week.

 

But  _ now?  _ He hardly knows anyone…

 

A different memory seeps in of that one time before he knew Natsu and Gray properly and offhandedly mentioned to Rogue that he thought they were  _ pretty hot, especially that Fullbuster.  _ His face bursts into flames.

 

Rogue fiddles with his hands again, cheeks pink. It’s hard to tell in the low tv light, but Sting manages and wishes he didn’t, because it’s fucking cute. 

 

“How,” asks Sting again, and then, in a more concerned tone: “ _ who?” _

 

“A...Fairy? Not Gray, not Gray!!” he adds quickly when he sees Sting’s wide eyes, and when Sting’s expression doesn’t soften, he also assures: “Not Natsu either!”

 

Sting buries his face in Lector’s fur, Lector meows and attempts to escape. “ _ Nooo,”  _ he moans softly. This is so embarrassing. Although, deep down, he’s actually quite grateful, because Rogue  _ has no idea  _ about Sting’s true feelings. Who knew Rogue was  _ that oblivious? _

 

Rogue regards him, and then continues without mercy. “Well, I mean, you’ve always been going to parties that are all held by Fairies,” he starts.

 

“Rufus’ idea of a party is a  _ book club,”  _ Sting counters. “Minerva is the devil and I do not trust anything she plans.”

 

“Fair point,” Rogue shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I assumed for you to put up with Lucy and Natsu so much there must be someone else...that you were going for.” Sting glances up, something about Rogue’s tone has suddenly gone sour. He peeks up at him carefully, but the scene of the show has just changed and the lighting is black. When the light comes back, Rogue is looking at him with a familiar blank expression. “Do you?”

 

“Do i?” Sting echoes, blinking. “What?”

 

Obviously Rogue wasn’t expecting the reply, and is taken back. He shrugs, eyes flicking away. “Have feelings for anyone. For a Fairy. Um.”

 

“No, no!” Sting snorts, lifting his head up and rests it on the cushion behind him. Letor, seizing his chance, escapes. “God, Rogue, what the heck? You never want to have this conversation with me. Seriously,  _ what? _ ” he can feel the poison seeping up his throat, but the words just don’t stop coming. “Why do you want to know? Are  _ you  _ into a Fairy?” what if Rogue says yes? What will he  _ do?  _ But he can’t stop. “You worried I’m going to steal them away? Poor Rogue, I know my moves are too slick, but  _ man!”  _ he shoots a hollow (but dazzling) grin his way. 

 

Rogue stares at him blankly like he can’t believe this is happening. “Go to bed, you drunko,” he replies with a roll of his eyes, giving Sting a shove. Sting falls back and obliging rolls off the couch. He stands up, yawning. It’s probably good that he’s going to bed. There’s a sickly coil of dread tying up his stomach.

 

“You too, Rogue. Go to bed.” when his roommate nods his head, Sting takes it and starts towards his bedroom. At the door, he pauses, letting his hand slip until just the tips of his finger are hanging on. “You didn’t answer,” he calls to Rogue, swallowing a heavy stone of doubt. “Is there someone in Fairy Tail?”   
  


There’s a long pause, then Rogue turns to look at him, and Sting feels his regret rising with every second. “I literally told you over text that there’s no one I’m chasing after – for lack of better term – like, an hour ago.” he says. “You’re a  _ dumbass,  _ Sting. Go. To. Bed.”

 

“Okay,” Sting slips into his room, feeling slightly humiliated, but in a good way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> karaoke will return.
> 
> Fic: when will they realize their feelings are requited?  
> me, playing whack-a-mole with potential scenes where they confess: what


	9. Skiadad and red gemstones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What's the problem? I don't know_  
>  well maybe I'm in love  
> Think about it every time I think about it  
> Can't stop thinking 'bout it  
> How much longer will it take to cure this?  
> Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love  
> Makes me want to turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG OF A WAIT. i just got actually into school and homework kicked my ass. I tried to make this longer to make up for it.
> 
> As of this chapter, (163 words into this chapter, to be exact) this will be the longest thing I’ve ever written. Swag.
> 
> (yea. chapter summary. couldn't help it)
> 
>  
> 
> edit oct 5: tweaked the summary a bit! it was pissing me off. it's probably no better, lol. I'll probably tweak it again in the future.

In the morning, Sting leaves before Rogue gets up, and so he doesn’t see him all day. Rogue wonders where he goes when he takes these “off days”, but a call near noon will reveal that sometimes he visits Yukino. 

 

Rogue doesn’t mind. He’s actually pretty grateful Sting has taken off, actually, since he has his own feelings to try and sort through. Just the thought makes him want to go back to bed. But he has homework, so he reluctantly pulls himself into the kitchen to pour a generous bowl of cereal.

 

A bowl of cereal and a warm shower later, Rogue settles down at the table with his laptop and the intent to get some work down.

 

He has trouble focusing on his homework, since the only thing he seems to want to think about is the way Sting looks down at him, grinning, despite everything, and how dazzling it was. Even in the low light, he can see the way the light catches his jaw, and hear the rumbling in his chest. 

 

Rogue slams his head down into his table a bit too fast, and it leaves a red mark glowing on his forehead. This isn’t working. He has assignments to do! He can’t be thinking about Sting in a time like this! 

 

He storms from his desk in angry ambition and snatches his headphones up. Some music would do the trick, some loud, focusing music. Music to drone out his distracting thoughts.

 

It doesn’t work. The music doesn’t work, even when he turns it up to almost full and feels like his ears are going to bleed. If anything, it  _ backfires,  _ distracting him from his work and training all his focus on the stupid thoughts trying to take over his head. 

 

_ Shit, shit, shit,  _ Rogue thinks, groaning. He hasn’t had a crush since 7th grade! And even then it was easier, because at least they were unattainable and the worst was over quickly. 

 

_ Okay. homework. Focus for ten minutes. Just get a bit done. _

  
  


+++

  
  


After another hour of trying to do his work (and failing) Rogue decides to take a break. He goes into the living room, because maybe some TV will distract him. Maybe there’s a new documentary about a serial killer. Rogue always likes those, even if some of them give him the creeps. Whatever. Serial killers  He could survive a serial killer. Maybe. And if he didn’t, Sting would most definitely avenge him.

 

He immediately feels embarrassed for reasons he’s beginning to understand. Why, though? Of course Sting would, because they’ve been friends for ever. It’s practically engraved in them that they would do anything for the other.

 

_ Is that why you decided to agree to this?  _ He thinks, sinking into the cushions. The tv sits, the screen pitch black. He hasn’t turned it on yet.  _ Perhaps you already knew – _

 

But that’s ridiculous. If Rogue was really in love with him, what would he gain from forcing himself into a relationship that they both know was fake? Why would he...initiate..almost  _ all… _ of those intimate moments?

 

_ Oh god,  _ Rogue thinks, burying his head in his hands.  _ Oh god, oh god. _

 

All the pieces start to really come together, everything he tried to avoid last night. Why he always waited up for Sting to come home, why Sting’s hand felt so  _ nice  _ in his own. Why he decided to move in with Sting for college, even though he  _ knew  _ Sting was a messy, schedule-less party problem. 

 

Or all the times he caught himself watching Sting’s face, watching the way the light bounced off his golden hair. The way Sting’s eyes seemed to draw him in every, single, time, regardless of what they were discussing.

 

_ Have I always been in love with him? _

 

His phone buzzes. Rogue jumps three feet and flies off the couch, landing with a dull thump. For a brief moment he thinks it might be Sting, but then remembers he has a set tone for him, and it isn’t the one playing. So who…?

 

He sits up and scans the couch – his phone is still buzzing, but he can’t find it. The ringing continues as Rogue scatters pillows, once, twice, and falls silent.

 

_ Who the fuck is calling him?  _

 

His phone buzzes again, luckily, and he scrambles around the cushions trying to find it. When he finally does – wedged between two cushions – the ringing has just ended. He looks at the notifications. 

 

 **SkiaDad** _now_

Missed Call (2)

 

Rogue groans loudly. His phone buzzes again in his hands and he hastily presses the green, but not before glimpsing that ridiculous nickname. (wasn’t his idea. Sting thought it up and sabotaged his phone when he wasn’t looking. Rogue never bothered to change it back.)

 

“Hello?”

 

“Ru-Ru!” someone yells in his ear. Rogue instinctively pulls the phone away from his ear with a grimace. Only  _ one  _ person he knows is louder than Sting, and that’s his adoptive dad. 

 

“Hey Pa,” he says, phone carefully away from his ear. “How are you?”

 

Skiadrum lets out a booming laugh. “Excellent! Still got that cough, but the sickness is completely gone. Doctors say i don’t need to take medication any longer. How are your studies?”

 

Rogue allows himself a soft smile. “That’s good. My studies are fine, Pa. Same as usual. I  _ am  _ studying,” he adds hastily before his father can try to ask. “Is there a reason for you calling?”

 

There’s a moment of pause. “Well, I thought we could celebrate now that I’m off my medication,” Skiadrum says tentatively. He’s being careful with his words.

 

Rogue bristles, although he’s not sure why. Immediately on edge, he asks cautiously, “what are you planning?”

 

There’s another pause. Rogue frowns at his phone; his father is never quiet for so long unless he’s asleep. He puts it up to his ear, but hears nothing. “...hello?” 

 

“I’m coming to stay with you boys before Christmas!” Skiadrum all but shouts, and Rogue flinches as he tries not to throw his phone across the room in surprise. Once the initial shock wears off, his father’s words actually sink in. 

 

“You  _ what.”  _ Rogue asks, deadpan. Inwardly, everything in his head begins to shut down. He feels his heart slow, his blood turning cold. “Pa, what?”

 

Rogue loves his father, but he’s such a handful to deal with. Everyday, he wonders how he put up with him for 14 years, because  _ really.  _

 

(he supposes he should wonder the same about Sting, since they have the same reckless energy. At least Sting shows some restraint.)

 

“For just a week.” as if that’s that’s suppose to be better.

 

“We don’t even have a room for you,” Rogue tries to fight back, although he knows it’s useless. Once Skiadrum’s mind is made, it’s made. Already he’s making plans to escape town. Maybe if he convinces his father that he has school over Christmas? Won’t do, Christmas break is practically required of the holiday.

 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Skiadrum says cheerfully. “Or  _ you  _ can sleep on the couch and I’ll take your bed!” he chuckles as if he made a funny joke, but Rogue knows it might actually come true. His father is very persuasive. If he can’t get through to Rogue, he’ll go for Sting, and both Cheneys know he’s easier to be swayed. Skiadrum might not even need a day before Sting is sleeping on the couch. Why is his best friend such a softie?

 

Rogue feels a sudden rush of protective anger for his best friend. “No – I think my friend has a mattress, I’ll ask to borrow that. You don’t mind sleeping on the ground in the living room, do you?” it comes out a bit snappier than he intended, but Skiadrum doesn’t notice. 

 

“That works! Okay, I’ll see you in a couple weeks then. I’ll arrive on the 16th, how’s that?”

 

“Couple –” Rogue splutters, throwing open his computer to check the date. “Shit, is it  _ already  _ december?” 

 

It is, in fact, already December. The 2nd, to be exact. “Yep!” Skiadrum confirms. “That gives you exactly two weeks to get me that mattress. Or I’ll be taking your couch. Or your bed.”

 

Rogue grimaces. Although he doesn’t really wanted to give up his bed, it would hurt to lose the couch, too. They spend a lot of time on this couch! He’s sitting on it right now! “...right. See you then, Pa?” he tries to end the call.

 

Skiadrum isn’t done though, apparently. “It’ll be great! You can show me all the best bars –”

 

“– Sting would know better than me,” Rogue interjects. “Really, i don’t go out very often. I don’t really like bars.” they’re always so  _ loud.  _ So many people and he always has to raise his voice. Rogue doesn’t like raising his voice.

 

“– I’ll cook a pre-christmas dinner, bring presents –”

 

_ Oh no,  _ Rogue thinks, because Skiadrum is a  _ terrible  _ gift-giver,

 

“Heck, I’ll even help you get a date!”

 

_ No,  _ Rogue thinks, his blood running cold. Skiadrum has tried many times to set Rogue up.  _ No, no, no.  _ last time, there was a fire. Rogue is really not interested in reliving the experience of  _ burning alive. _ And he really can't deal with other people, people he doesn't know, not after…his current dilemma. “Pa, no, I c-can’t,”

 

“Why not?” Skiadrum asks, puzzled. “Come on, Rogue! You can’t focus on just studies! There’s life outside of college, you know. Meet some people, that’s what i say! I would just like to see you happy, Ru –”   
  


“I have a boyfriend, Pa!” Rogue snaps, and then immediately claps a hand over his mouth.  _ Fuck.  _ He really didn't mean to say that. Fuck, fuck. If he has to put up this charade in front of his dad,  _ for a week... _ It was hard enough pretending in front of Lucy and Co., but in front of someone  _ living  _ with them? Jesus Christ. 

 

Not to mention, this’ll be the second (third, if he counts the kissing) time he’s dragged Sting into something, something that was suppose to be  _ him  _ helping Sting. Rogue stifles a loud groan. The other side of the phone is silent.

 

“Oh?” skiadrum says, quietly, and then again, louder. “Ohhhh?” 

 

“um,” Rogue says, realizing it's far too late to try and backtrack. Too late to say he misspoke. God, this day keeps getting worse and worse. He just wants to watch tv with –

 

Rogue shuts down that train of thought before it can even leave the station. 

 

“Who would've guessed! How long has this been going on?” Skiadrum demands, sounding elighted. There’s an edge in his voice that Rogue can just barely detect. Huh? 

 

He frowns, trying to remember to back to the date, when they had to answer this same question with Lucy. What was it he had said? “Thr...three months? Three and a half months?”

 

“That’s great!” Skiadrum chirps, but his replies feel less than friendly. Rogue bites back a creeping feel of worry. Shouldn’t he be happy Rogue is dating someone? For once? “Who’s the lucky guy?”

 

“Sting,” comes out before he can rethink it, followed by his heart stopping. Oh no oh no, what is he  _ doing? _ Dragging Sting into this again? Why can’t he think before he speaks, lately?

 

...Not that it matters, he’s pretty sure there would be hell if he said anyone but Sting. He doesn’t need an even bigger mess to clean up then he already has.

 

… 

 

An image of his best friend, bright blond and grinning, shoves its way into his head. He has a moment of pleasant surprise, and then –

 

_ Sting! I’m going to have to tell him. Oh god. _

 

“Sting?” Skiadrum echoes. 

 

Rogue nods, remembers he can’t see that, and awkwardly clears his throat. “Yea.”

 

“That’s great! Fantastic!” Skiadrum booms, and Rogue frowns, purely because he suddenly can’t detect a hint of deception in his tone. 

 

“y-yea,” He replies, barely heard over Skiadrum congratulating him. This day might be the worse day he’s had to live through, not counting Finals. What has he done? Lying to his dad? Rogue closes his eyes and swallows a groan.

 

“– finally …..gether!”

 

“Sorry, what did you say?” Rogue asks, blinking his eyes open, when he realizes his father is actually making conversation again and not just congratulating him.

 

“That I’m glad you two  _ finally  _ got together!” 

 

Rogue stifles a choke, surprised.  _ Finally?  _ As in… people thought they had feelings for eachother before? As in, people thought  _ he  _ had feelings for Sting before? What the fuck,  _ he himself  _ hadn’t realized until literally the night before! Had he always been so obvious?  _ Had he always been so dense? _

 

“Haha yea,” he says on autopilot. His head is spinning. He’s starting to wish he never figured out he had feelings for Sting. He needs to go, to get away from this.

 

(he’s beginning to understand why Sting just  _ leaves  _ for hours on end for seemingly no reason.)

 

“Yep. yea, we. just kinda… yeah.” It’s not going well and his voice is getting higher from the sudden stress. He clears his throat and tries again. “So! You’re coming in two weeks then, right?”

 

“Yes! I’ll see you and Sting then!” there’s all kinds of suggestive in his tone. Rogue glances at the kitchen counter and wonders how hard he’d have to slam his head into it to knock himself out.

 

“Great Pa! I gotta go now, college things to do, you know? Bye, love you!” and hangs up before Skiadrum can even begin to respond.

 

And then he groans loud enough for it to be classified as a scream and buries his head in the couch cushions.

 

+++

 

After that, Rogue does leave the apartment. It’s too much to just sit and stew in the entire situation, so he grabs a coat and practically barrels out the door into the icy weather.

 

For a moment, he stands outside the door, stock still as it clicks shut behind him. The wind bites at his face, but other than that, everything is silent and calm. For a moment, Rogue has no idea what he’s doing, where he plans to go. It’s not often he just  _ goes out.  _ He’s not very fond of strangers.

 

Well, since it’s December, he might as well start christmas shopping.

 

A brisk walk takes him to the bus stop for the one that heads to the city center. He’s glad for the warm bus, since it’s surprisingly cold, even colder than last night. It might snow, seeing how cold it is. He glances at the sky – it’s overcast, but the clouds are white, and promise nothing. Maybe not, then.

 

The bus drops him by the bookshop, so Rogue shrugs his shoulders and goes there first. Maybe he’ll find something for Yukino? Something about the zodiac. Yukino’s pretty interested in that.

 

There’s a thrill about being out and about, just by himself. Rogue likes it, even if everyone around him sets him on edge. It’s nice to have fresh air and the smell of fast food in his lungs. It’s calming, and distracting. It allows him to think. About anything, really.

 

He allows himself some time to not think about his father, or anything he said. For a bit, he just thinks about the book in his hands and whether or not Yukino would prefer a history on the Zodiac, or a horoscope for everyday of the year. He chooses the history book. Horoscopes are full of shit, anyway.

 

(but not before he peeks at his horoscope for today. Bullshit or not, he’s curious.)

 

Book in bag, bag in hand, Rogue continues to the next shop, but not before he wanders down a few streets he’s never bothered to check out. He’s never ‘looked around’. Crocus city is huge and he’s never bothered with streets that don’t lead him to wherever he had planned to go at a given time. 

 

One of them leads to a small cafe that Rogue plans to go to after a bit of shopping. It’s tiny, but the food in the window looks good.

 

Next stop is a...he’s not sure what kind of store it is. Nature? Rocks? Genre-less things that have no use except to look pretty? Rogue’s been dragged here many times by Sting and Yukino, so he might as well give it a shot. 

 

The shop smells like spices and old wood, and Rogue likes it. It’s the one thing that caught his attention the first time Sting and Yukino dragged him in. An earthy smell, homely and comforting. He wonders what causes it. Candles, maybe? Maybe the log shelves are infused with it. 

 

Rocks upon rocks are assorted on the shelves, which are what grab his attention first. He’s pulled towards them, and how shiny they all are. Rogue doesn’t know much about them, but Sting does. Sting likes rocks. Gemstones, to be specific. He collects them sometimes, as well as other shiny things. Like a magpie. 

 

He used to collect many different kinds of stones of all different colours. He still does, but Rogue’s noticed that since high school, his best friend has begun to gravitate towards darker colours. Black and red stones were his favourite, since he put his favourites in a special place in his room, and red is the most reoccurring colour, before black.

 

Rogue fiddles with a carved piece of Spinel, closely watching the way the light hits it. Personally, he doesn’t see the appeal of gemstones or rocks, but it’s nice that Sting does. There are worse things to collect, he supposes.

 

In the end, he heaves a small sphere of red jasper to the cashier, aggressively ignoring the one shaped like a heart beside it. He isn’t going to think about  _ that,  _ not right now. He also gets a couple moonstones for Yukino, since they remind him of her hair. And they’re smooth and calming to hold in his hand. He’s starting to vaguely see the appeal of them.

 

After that, Rogue goes back to that small cafe he laid eyes on earlier. It was eleven, and a perfect time to grab a snack. Sure, he hadn’t  _ really  _ bought enough to justify a break, but he hadn’t eaten much breakfast, either. 

 

From the assortment of treats, he chooses a simple gingerbread man cookie and a latte to go with it. Cookie and drink in hand, he wanders over to a seat by the window and plunks down in it.

 

People pass by his window and he watches them with vague interest. The leaves are bare, and really, snow’s the only thing missing from this winter feel. The trees are bare, the air is cold and dry, and shops are already putting up lights in red and green.

 

Now that he’s sat down and not distracted, his mind goes straight into thinking about what he doesn't really want to think about. There’s no way out of it. If he doesn’t call Sting now, he’ll never call him, and then he’ll come home and Rogue will have to tell him then and it’ll be much harder in person.

 

With a heavy sigh of responsibility, Rogue pulls out his phone. He flicks to his Favourites in his contacts (should he be amused that Sting was a Favourite before this  _ realization  _ happened? No, because Sting’s his  _ best friend.  _ It would be wrong to not have him as a Favourite. Sting  _ is  _ his favourite.) and presses the  _ call  _ button.

 

“Cheney,” Sting answers the phone, deadpan. Rogue feels a rush, and forces it down angrily. What the fuck is he doing, getting giddy over Sting like a child? And just from hearing his voice?

 

“Eucliffe,” Rogue replies back, his voice carefully flat. It’s a habit they have, (perhaps more like a game?) where they answer to each other in the flattest, most pissed off tones they can muster. Rogue usually wins, but today he thinks Sting might have him beat. He clears his throat, remembering what he called for with a sudden sinking feeling. “I talked to Pa today,” he announces.

 

“Skiadad?” Sting asks with an immediate lift of his voice, putting emphasis on  _ dad.  _ He’s awfully proud of that pun. And he genuinely likes Skiadrum. Rogue worries that he might like him more than Rogue himself does. “How’s he doing?”   
  


“Peachy,” Rogue says, rolling his eyes. “He’s off his medication. He wanted to celebrate…” he waits a moment to find the words, or for Sting to reply, but he doesn’t. “He’s coming in two weeks to spend a week with us.”

 

There’s a pause. “Shit, okay,” Sting says. Rogue hates himself for thinking that even  _ that  _ sounds endearing. “Uh, sweet! I guess I should think of a christmas present for him. Damn! Right when I thought I was done christmas shopping.” Rogue snorts, because  _ really,  _ only Sting would have all his presents ready  _ before  _ December even  _ started.  _

 

Time to break the bad news. He’s not sure how to breach the subject, but he’s ready for the worst. “Sorry,” he starts. 

 

“Sor– what? Rogue, what did you do?” Sting asks, his voice soft with worry, and Rogue’s heart cracks like dropped glass. 

 

“Pa – he was…” he coughs, fiddling with the phone, glancing all around the cafe. He can hear Sting waiting patiently, and lowers his voice. “Um. He was saying he might try and get me a date – uh.” his voice comes out quick and quiet. “I might have told him I already have a boyfriend.”

 

“Rogue!” Sting squawks on the other side. “Seriously?”   
  


“It slipped out!” Rogue squawks back. “Sorry.” he messes with his hair, unable to stop fidgeting. “Sorry. Sorry.”

 

He hears Sting sigh loudly, and then the audio quality drops quickly. He can hear him talking someone in the background. There’s a voice...Yukino? Rogue can’t hear what they’re saying. Sting must’ve just slapped his hand over the microphone. Which would explain all the crackling.

 

He listens for a minute, trying to distinguish any obvious words, and fails. To distract his waiting –  _ seriously, what are they talking about? –  _ he tries his cookie. The icing isn’t very good, but the gingerbread is  _ extremely  _ good, so he’s willing to forgive that. 

 

There’s a crackling, and Sting comes back on. “Sorry! Yukino was asking me something.” So it was Yukino. Rogue stifles a chuckle, and is about to start apologizing again when Sting continues talking. “Ah. When you said...told your dad, um...Did you say,  _ I  _ was the boyfriend?” his tone catches Rogue by surprise. He almost sounds worried. Embarrassed that he’s asking, too. Rogue frowns to himself.

 

“Of course. Who else is there? Besides, how would you explain that to Lucy? How would  _ I  _ explain that to Lucy?”  _ At this point, who else is there to even consider? _ Rogue thinks grimly.    
  


“Oh, right. Okay!” Sting says cheerfully, and it almost sounds like he was about to tack  _ good  _ onto the end of the sentence. 

 

Why does he sound so cheerful? Rogue takes a sip of his drink, his frown deepening. “Are you really okay with this?” he asks, glancing around him, suddenly aware of the people around him. No one’s looking at him though. He’s fine.  _ Get a grip,  _ he thinks.  _ What were you thinking? Everyone suddenly cares about your conversation? _

 

“We’re dating anyway,” Sting says breezily, and then makes a small gasping noise. “Fake dating!” he corrects hastily. “We’re fake dating anyway.”

 

Rogue chuckles. “I know. But he’s going to be here for a week. We have to pretend for a week, Sting.  _ Every day. _ ”

 

There’s an out of character pause from Sting. Then he starts laughing, deep and nice. It sends a warm feeling blooming in Rogue’s chest. “That’s fine! It’ll be  _ fun,  _ don’t you think?” he actually sounds excited. Rogue rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop from smiling. 

 

“Sounds like the best time of my life,” Rogue replies, making sure his words are dripping with sarcasm. 

 

Sting laughs again, and then stops. “By the way, you owe me  _ big time  _ for this,” he says. 

 

The call ends.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part about Sting and rocks is loosely based off the first stingue fic (http://archiveofourown.org/works/5469191) i ever read. Now it's my headcanon, lol


	10. another day with Yukino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd bury diamonds  
> Just for you  
> Oh, why, why, why do my flowers always die?  
> Why do they die?  
> I'm all jacked up  
> Over you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween! I love halloween
> 
> lmao this is much later than i was hoping for BUT! it's not november so that's a save in my book. sorry, school + life has been kicking my ass. 
> 
>    
> Ten chapters! If this goes the way i plan, we’re about just over half way. There’s about nine more chapters, give or take. Thanks for supporting me!
> 
> (please listen to Jacked Up it's so GOOD)

“So we need a mattress,” Sting says thoughtfully, staring down at the living room floor. They had cleared it out, and were contemplating the empty spot. It would be a tight squeeze to fit anything down, but it would be fine. Probably.

 

“Yea. I forgot to mention that when I called. You could’ve asked Yukino then.” Rogue watches the spot with disdain. He’s draped over the end of the couch, in a _I’m not giving this couch up, so we better get a mattress_ kind of way. Sting glances at him, hands on his hips. Rogue glances back lazily and Sting huffs out a sigh.

 

“ _Thanks,”_ he snaps, rolling his eyes. Rogue makes an amused noise and shuffles around on the couch. Sting frowns at him, since _he’s_ the one who’s suppose to be annoying and unhelpful. “Should I call her? Will that be weird?”

 

“It’s Yukino,” Rogue says, as if that answers everything. He tries to roll onto his back, miscalculates the space he has and rolls off the couch. He hits the ground with a bang and swears. Sting snorts, offering no hand when Rogue heaves himself to his knees, rubbing his head. “She probably won’t notice. She’s nice like that.” he continues, as if he didn’t just bounce off the coffee table.

 

It’s three pm. Rogue came home from his shopping at twelve thirty, and Sting came home at two. They had begun to assess what they needed for  Skiadrum’s arrival, and were currently standing in the living room, figuring out what to move to make room for the mattress.

 

Sting shook his head. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. She probably has work now. Besides, we have two weeks, don’t we? Have you marked the calendar yet?” he glances towards the kitchen to where the calendar was.

 

“No…” Rogue said slowly, watching Sting, a look on his face that clearly said _why would we need to?_ “Like you said, don’t we have two weeks to do this? And it’s just my dad.” he pushed himself to his feet.

 

Sting frowned. Was Rogue being weird? It felt like it. He was making more eye contact with Sting today, and he could feel his eyes following him when he turned away. It wasn’t that he minded the extra attention (really, really liked it, actually) but it was putting him on edge. Did he do something? Had Rogue heard him talking to Yukino when they were on the phone? Maybe he was mad that Sting had just left without warning that morning.

 

 _It’s not you,_ he told himself, mentally trying to calculate how much space the mattress would take up and whether or not they would have to push the table closer to the couch. _He’s probably got something else on his mind. Maybe he’s worried about his dad coming?_

 

The silence drags on. Sting makes a few notes on his phone and scours the kitchen for what food they need. Which is basically everything, since they never properly go shopping. Shit! He closes the fridge and glances at Rogue, who is on his back, frowning at the ceiling. He turns to look when the fridge closes, catches Sting’s eye, and immediately looks away, frowning harder. _What the heck?_

  


“What?” he asks finally, unable to concentrate on anything else at this point. Rogue jumps a little at the abrupt break of silence and looks at him sideways.

 

“What?”

 

Sting taps his foot in an irregular pattern against the floor. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and taps harder when he gets a blank stare in reply. He’s this close to fidgeting with his hands, too. Shit, why is _this_ making him nervous? It shouldn’t, but since... _everything,_ he’s gotten less confident with daily, things. And Rogue is getting harder to read, too. “You’re staring at me, what did I do?”

 

His roommate blinks, and then blushes. Sting only sees the red on his cheeks for a moment, before he turns away and stares at the tv. “Was I? I didn't notice.”

 

 _Liar,_ Sting thinks, but doesn't push the subject. Instead, he walks over and flicks him on the shoulder. “Come on, you can tell me what’s wrong while we move this table. I don’t want to have to move it when we’ve already got the mattress.”

 

Rogue kicks his legs over the couch and slides off after them. “Nothing,” he says flatly. “I’m fine, I’m just...thinking.” Sting hums absentmindedly in reply, because that also sounds like a lie, but there’s nothing backing up that thought. Besides, ‘thinking’ is the perfect cover up, because there’s no way of knowing if it’s true or not.

 

He asks instead, “what are you thinking about?” Maybe he can trick Rogue into revealing something. “If you say ‘stuff’, I’ll make you move this table yourself,” he adds when he sees the look on Rogue’s face.

 

Rogue’s mouth slams shut with an audible click of his teeth. He grimaces, picking up one side of the table as Sting lifts up the other, but not from the weight of the table. “Just…” there’s a pause as they heaves the table three feet closer to the couch. “Y’know. My dad coming?” the table goes down harder than they were expecting and slams against the hard floor. Sting grimaces. “Um. and I guess, about the party?”

 

Sting’s gaze snaps up to him, and Rogue stares back. They stare at eachother for a moment, as the room falls silent. His mouth pulls up into a thin line. Didn’t they talk about it? It was only yesterday, but was there something Rogue was hiding?

 

Rogue seems to sense Sting’s thoughts immediately and stumbles over his words. “Minerva! I’m worried about Minerva. The people she was hanging out with seemed really shady. I just hope she isn’t...I just hope she’s going to be okay. She hardly even comes to classes anymore.” he heaves a sigh and leans against the table, looking worried. It’s not a good look and makes him look twice as tired and worn as usual. Sting’s chest twists painfully. He never pegged Rogue as one to care about Minerva – his relationship with her had been tolerance at best.

 

“Yea,” is all he can say in reply. “Yea. I uh, same.” he scratches his nose in an awkward attempt to distract himself before more can slip out of his mouth. Habits of his, trying to break silence with more talk, which almost usually ends up with him confessing something or making a fool of himself. It’s not like Rogue _cares,_ (and if he did, he’d be a terrible best friend for Sting, who routinely makes a fool of himself) but it’s something the blonde will lay awake thinking about when he should be sleeping.

 

The rest of the day passes by quietly. They have a mac and cheese dinner, and watch a documentary about mice until 11, and then Sting almost falls asleep and his dozing head smacks into Rogue’s. So he gets up and leaves to go to his own bed. Sleeping on the couch leads to sore limbs in the morning. Always, without fail.

  


+++

  


“Hello?”  


It’s ten in the morning. Sting taps his foot against the wall of the counter that he’s currently sitting on. “Hi Yukino!” he chirps. The sun is out, but now it’s December and bitterly cold, so it does nothing. Still hasn’t snowed yet, despite the cold temperature. Sting clicks his tongue in disapproval. What’s December without snow? What if it doesn't snow at all? What’s _Christmas_ without snow?

 

“What’s up? Something happen?” Yukino asks, and it takes a moment for Sting to realize she’s referring to him calling her instead of just texting like usual. He wiggles his bare toes, and remembers he’s still in his pjs. Whatever. Sundays are relaxing day, and pajamas are a relaxation _right._

 

“Thumbs are cold,” he explains, waving a hand. “Won’t type like I want them too. Besides, I wanted to hear your voice! Is that not allowed, my sweet Penelope?” he snickers quietly to himself.

 

“Stop it,” Yukino giggles in embarrassment. Sting isn’t even there but he can see her squirming. “You weirdo, you saw me yesterday.” there’s another giggle, and then, “save the romantics for your boyfriend, Romeo.”

 

“Shut up!” Sting sneaks a peak at Rogue’s door, firmly shut. Rogue’s still asleep, Sting checked before he called Yukino, but it still makes him nervous. He’s not the heaviest sleeper, and Sting doesn’t know what he’ll be able to hear. “He’s not my _boyfriend.”_ there’s a pause as they both mentally go over his statement.

 

“ _Technically,”_ says Yukino in cheerful voice.

 

“ _Shut up,”_ Sting cheerfully replies, threateningly. She laughs through the phone and he rolls his eyes at her. “You know what i meant. Fake dating and everything.”

 

“Do I?” her voice drops flat, and Sting flinches, a puddle of dread dripping into his chest. What’s she implying? He taps his fingers against the counter, hard and fast and in an unsteady rhythm.

 

“What?” he asks, a mix between playing dumb and genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

 

Yukino huffs lightly, a careful sound. “I don’t even know what’s going on with you. I didn’t expect Rogue to be going along with this for so long, but _he’s_ the one keeping this going.” she falls silent, allowing her words to sink in for Sting.

 

Sting blinks. “It’s just convenient. It’s not like he can help it, things keep popping up,” he explains. “And he apologizes! It’s not like he means too, I think.” honestly, Yukino should know how Rogue is. She’s known him almost as long as Sting has.

 

“Lucy caught you making out in a bush!” Yukino snaps back. “Seriously, what was that? Was that you? You guys were kissing!” she sounds a bit betrayed and frantic, like Sting’s hiding something from her.

 

“I don’t...want to talk about that. Not right now.” he runs a hand through his hair, once, twice, three times. Not over the phone with Rogue sleeping (hopefully) down the short hall. “Later.”

 

“hm..alright. Why did you call me anyway?” Something bubbles and boils in the background. She must be making breakfast. Eggs, maybe? Sting ponders this and completely misses the question. “Hello?” her voice cuts through his thoughts.

 

He jumps. “What did you say?”

 

“Why did you call me?” She’s beginning to sound terse. He can't blame her — he’s kind of been bothering her for two days in a row. Three days they’ve been hanging out. It's not her fault if she’s beginning to be fed up with him.

 

“Oh. Oh! We need a mattress. You had a spare one, didn't you?” he kicks his legs a little bit. “Rogue’s dad is going to sleep in the living room. So we’re wondering if we can borrow yours.”

 

“hm. Do you really need it…?” She trails off and it's silent before she adds. “I was saving it in case Minerva needs a place to crash. Her living state is fragile. But…”

 

“Great!” Sting chirps. “That's perfect.” He grins into the phone, aware that she can't see it.

 

“Perfect? Sting, I need that! What if she just shows up? I already told her I have one just in case,” she splutters, clearly taken back.

 

Sting begins enjoying his newfound opportunity as having the upper hand. It feels like being sixteen again, and teasing eachother whenever they got the chance. Slyly, he purrs: “oh, but it's a perfect opportunity to have to share a bed!”

 

Yukino screams. It makes Sting laugh even harder.

 

“Sting!” She shrieks into the phone. Sting cackles in reply, throwing his legs out. “That's not going to happen!” He snorts, and almost nearly flies off the back of the counter, but it just makes him laugh harder. “Stop laughing! Stiiinnnnng!”

 

“Sorry, sorry.” He swipes at his eye, still chuckling. “But seriously, can we please borrow the mattress?” Because they do need that mattress. Rogue’s not stubborn about a lot of things, but he’s very set on the couch staying unoccupied. In all honesty, it's kind of entertaining.

 

Yukino huffs and draws out a long groan. “Ugh. I guess? Yea. Sure.” she sighs and Sting knows he's won. “You have to talk to me about the other day though!” She adds quickly.

 

Sting grimaces, glancing over his shoulder at Rogue’s closed door. He hasn't heard from him, but he’s been pretty loud. There's reason to suspect that he's awake now.

 

“Alright,” he tells Yukino begrudgingly. “When can I come over?”

 

Something clinks in the background. “How about forty five minutes from now?” She offers. Sting agrees and they say their farewells.

 

+++

 

What Sting hadn't accounted for was moving the mattress. It wasn't like he had a car! And it was much too big for him to carry alone, being a double and all. Sting wasn't sure he could even handle a single. The weight? Maybe. The overall height and length? Probably not.

 

“You can borrow my car,” Yukino assures him. “You do know how to drive, don't you?” She pats his shoulder and leads him into her tiny apartment. It was only one real room and kind of cramped, but Sting knows that if he wasn't living with Rogue, he’d probably be living the same way.

 

“Yea, I do,” he follows her inside. The mattress is leaning against the wall of the living room, waiting. Yukino glances at it and then moves to the kitchen to boil some water.

 

“Do you want any tea?” She asks him. He shakes his head, and comes into the kitchen as well. Mostly to raid her fridge, which is always more stocked up than his.

 

Yukino sips her tea and Sting munches on a piece of fruit. “So,” she says, looking at him expectantly.

 

“So,” he says back, giving nothing away. She rolls her eyes at him and sips her tea again. Sting shuffles over and sits on her counter. He gets a tired _hmm_ in response.

 

“So. You say this is all part of your scheme and there's nothing going between you — at least not on Rogue’s side,” she begins slowly. Sting nods back, clutching the edges of the counter. The fruit is long gone (and delicious as always, he’s gotta know where she gets that stuff). “But you were…” she makes a face. “Making out in a bush.”

 

“I know,” Sting groans, and then groans again. “I _know.”_ He puts his hands over his face. “Oh god.”

 

She watches him with sympathetic eyes, tea clutched in her small hands. Sting heaves a sigh, flops onto his back, and then slowly slides off the counter onto his feet. “It wasn't my idea,” he explains, sitting down at her feet. The kitchen floor is hard, but he doesn't mind.

 

Yukino follows suit, delicately folding her legs under her. “I never pegged Rogue as the impulsive one,” she says truthfully. He shrugs. Rogue can be impulsive, just not so obviously. He thinks of solutions, but not the consequences those solutions could bring. Sting voices this to her and she smiles lightly. “Suddenly philosophical, are we?”

 

Sting snorts. “hardly. I'm pretty sure it was him who made that revelation.” He sighs, the hint of a smile pulling his lips.

 

Yukino sips her tea thoughtfully. “Why would Rogue do _that_ , though?” She muses, gratuitously avoiding the word _kiss_ or _kissing_. “He hardly likes…affection. Did he even tell you, or…?”

 

Sting flares up suddenly. “He said it was the only thing he could think of,” he says quickly, harsher than he intended. “And he apologized for it.”

 

Yukino starts, taken back. “Oh. I didn't know that.” She stares into her cup, looking abashed.

 

He sighs again, messing with his hair awkwardly. “Sorry. I’m just…” his words trail out and he settles instead for sighing. The girl across from him smiles again and it’s probably because she knows what he’s going through.

 

“Wow, I’ll never get to criticise Rogue as long as you’re in love with him,” she teases, and he reaches across to punch her weakly in the arm. She laughs and punches him back in response. “still, “ she says after the giggling is out of her system. It hangs in the air. “Still,” she says again, almost at a lost for words. After a moment of silence, she settles on “was it good?”  


“Yukino!” Sting’s hands go up to smack her uselessly on the shoulder. Yukino snorts and laughs, shuffling away from him. He can feel his face going bright red.

 

“Sorry!” she squeaks, obviously not sorry, and laughing her head off. “But I mean, it was with _Rogue,_ the boy you’ve had a crush on for—”

 

“Stop!” Sting wails, covering his ears, absolutely burning up. “Subject change, subject change!”

 

“You said you’d talk about it! Sting, this is important for you, too!” Yukino throws herself on top of him, pulling his hands from his face. Sting squawks and kicks out — his foot makes contact with her cup. Hot tea goes everywhere, including all over their legs. Both of them scream simultaneously. Sting flings himself back, and launches Yukino off of him. She hits the floor and he smacks his head against the oven behind him.

 

A stunned silence falls over them. Sting’s leg is uncomfortably hot, but it isn’t burning, so he isn’t too concerned.

 

His head hurts, though.

 

Yukino is lying face down on the ground, immobile. Her cup is on its side, with tea slowly leaking out of it. Sting glances at his foot and sees it’s in the center of the tea-puddle, along with Yukino’s legs. “Yukino,” he nudges her with his dry foot. “Are you okay?”

 

Yukino lets out a quiet, muffled wail but refuses to move. “You’re lying in the tea,” he tells her, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. It hurts, but he doesn’t have a headache, so that’s a good sign. “Sorry about your tea. Your cup isn’t broken, though.” he lifts his foot out of the tea. His sock drips. Gross. Wet socks are the bane of existence.

 

“ ‘tis fine,” Yukino mumbles in a smothered voice. “I’ll just make more. But if my cup was broken, I’d kill you.”

 

“It’s not,” Sting confirms, again.

 

“I know,” she lifts herself off the ground and takes a look down at her soaked legs. “Ugh, my pants. I have to go change, I’ll be right back.”

 

“Okay,” Sting replies, watching her stand up and leave. “I’ll just… sit here.” he lifts his leg towards himself and gingerly pulls off his sock. It’s soggy. _At least it smells like tea_ , he reasons and flicks it to the side. And then he sits. And waits.

 

The first thing that comes to mind is what Yukino had inquired. How had he felt about the kiss? It was nice. It was definitely nice. Rogue had been so warm. He can clearly recall the stark difference between the frosty ground and the comforting heat of his best friend’s arms around him.

 

His hands go up to his face, fingers prodding his lips carefully. As if he can still feel Rogue pressed against his mouth. There was shock, and desperate longing.

 

That’s a lot of emotions for less than thirty seconds. Sting pulls his hand from his face as if his own lips are burning him. At that moment, Yukino chooses to walk back in. “Get up, you’re going to get covered in tea,” she warns him with a sigh. Sting scrambles to his feet, minus one sock. He stares down at the spreading puddle at their feet — she’s right, had he been there much longer, he would’ve ended up sitting in it.

 

“My bad,” he offers. He kicked it, after all.

 

“It was an accident. Shouldn’t have jumped on you,” Yukino smiles thinly, then bends down with a roll of paper towel to sop up the mess. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want.”

 

Sting is quiet. She’s offering him an escape. He stands there, still, and finds that maybe it would be better to talk about it. If he doesn’t talk to Yukino, _who_ is he going to talk to? She’s the only one who knows that… well, about how he feels. “No, it’s okay,” he decides. “I’m just…” he trails off, a frown on his face. The words are lodged in his throat. He tries again, coughing them out and ignoring the tinge behind his eyes.

 

“It's just…I'm worried. What if I do something or say something and then he knows?” suddenly all the words are spilling out of him, there in the kitchen. “And then he thinks I’ve been taking advantage of him this entire time, and he’s grossed out, and he finds out I’ve been in love with him for so long and he thinks I’ve never _really_ been his friend, even though if I could get rid of these feelings I would! I don’t want to be in love with him, and he’s my best friend, and i just—” he sucks in a breath and is taken back when it shudders through his chest. He’s crying.

 

Tears are streaming down his cheeks. He sniffs loudly and aggressively wipes his face with his sleeve. “Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his face hard. “Sorry Yukino.”  

 

Yukino’s eyes are sad. “I know. It’s okay, You’re not bad for crying.” she says. There’s not much else she can say. She can’t really _know,_ she’s not in his _situation_ , but she understands. She guides him gently to her couch. “Rogue would understand. Rogue would forgive you. You’re his best friend, Sting.”

 

Sting hiccups in reply and pulls his legs into his chest. Yukino puts on the tv and disappears. Sting looks around wildly, until he realizes she just went to get him a blanket. she drapes it over his shoulders and he buries his head in it and gasps in a few more shuddering breaths. Fresh tears are rolling down his face. He wipes them away and knows it’s going to make his eyes and cheeks raw.

 

“Let me make you some tea,” Yukino says, and actually disappears into the kitchen this time. Sting curls up into the blanket. thank god for Yukino. He’s not sure why he's even crying.

 

Yukino returns quickly with his tea. It’s sweet and milky, just how he likes it. She settles beside him with her own tea, letting their sides touch. The warmth is soothing. He sips his tea and sinks even lower into the couch, trying to calm his trembling shoulders.

 

Five minutes pass and eventually Sting is able to breathe without shaking. He leans over and drops his head on Yukino’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

 

She chuckles lightly, nudging him back. “Did you tell Rogue you were coming over?”  


Sting shakes his head. “I should get going, shouldn’t I?” he quickly drains the rest of his tea and shrugs off the blanket. “Really, thank you.”  
  
She looks up at him with concern in her eyes. “Are you sure? You can stay if you want. I can make more tea.”

 

Sting laughs. It’s amazing how caring Yukino is. Minerva better realize how lucky she is, or Sting will pound it into her.“I’m okay now. I should figure out how to get this mattress to our place.” he stretches and yawns. He should really drink something before he gets a major headache. “I have to figure out how to get the mattress to my house.”

 

“Oh,” says Yukino. “That’s right. You don’t have a car, do you?” and it’s way too big for him to carry. “do you want to borrow my car?” He shakes his head.

 

“I’ll get Orga to give us a hand, so don't worry about it. Do you mind if I come back tomorrow to get it?” Yukino shakes her head and Sting takes a quick trip to the kitchen to drop off his cup and grab his sock.

 

He says his farewells at the door and steps out into the crisp air. It nips at his warm face and he wonders if his nose is still red. He never bothered to check. It’ll be a pain if Rogue notices and decides to say something, because how is he going to explain that? Ah, well. He'll just say they watched a dog movie. Sting always cries during dog movies.

  
The wind pulls at his hair and throws it around his face. He glances up at the sky — clouds are rolling in, big, thick, dark ones. _Snow? Please say snow._ Sting crosses his fingers, and, feeling lighter, briskly walks back home, his feet hardly touching the pavement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might make a playlist for this, haha. debating on whether to put: actual happy love songs OR the songs I've been putting in the chapter summaries. (probably both)
> 
> sorry to everyone who commented and i haven't replied to yet! i've been meaning to but i just haven't been on, haha. hopefully chapters + replies will come faster now that we're getting into a new 'arc'. I tend to writing faster during those.
> 
> (Sting and Yukino's friendship is so important to me)


	11. It's beginning to look a lot like christmas~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such a silly thing to do, fall in love with you
> 
> We're better together  
> You and I, we were meant forever  
> Don't get hurt by up setters  
> You and I, we were made to measure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, very sorry.

In the end, Rogue doesn’t notice that Sting has had a meltdown, and if he does, he doesn’t let on. He does ask where he’s been, though. “Yukino’s,” Sting answers quickly, pulling off his shoes at the door. His left foot gets caught on his heel, briefly, because he’s not wearing a sock. He has to sit down to tug it off. Rogue notices that. 

 

“Why are you only wearing one sock?” he squints at his best friend, who smiles sheepishly. 

 

“Spilled some tea,” he replies. “I was not about to walk back with a soggy sock.” He runs a hand through his hair, and heads over to where Rogue is sitting. “I talked to Yukino about the mattress. I’m going to get Orga to help us carry it back to here.”

 

Rogue grunts. “Alright,” he says, turning his head back to his laptop. Sting leans over the couch and pops his head over Rogue’s shoulder. 

 

“What are you doing?” he asks, oblivious to way Rogue tenses. “Schoolwork?”

 

“Mmm,” says Rogue stiffly. He taps a few loose words into his document, and then deletes them. Taps them in again. Delete. Sting watches the process with mild interest. None of the sentences that are typed out seem to stick for more than a second. He seemed to be doing well before. Is he bothering Rogue? Perhaps he just has no ideas. Funny, Rogue is usually efficient at writing papers.

 

“What do you want to make for lunch?” he asks instead. It's a meaningless question. For all he knows, Rogue could've eaten already. Rogue shrugs and his shoulder knocks gently against Sting’s chin. Sting smiles at the gesture. “I’m gonna heat up a soup then. Speak now or forever hold your peace!” he declares and flounces away to the kitchen, to leave Rogue to hunch stiffly over his computer.

 

+++

 

Rogue wakes up late the next morning to his phone buzzing out of control. Fuck that paper, he is never going to bed at 5am again (this is a lie.). Throwing his arm out haphazardly, he gropes around the bedside table until his hand connects with his phone. By now, the phone is done vibrating. He draws in a breath and rubs his eyelids. His dark room comes into slow focus.

 

The phone tells him it’s 11:39, and that he has four missed calls and 6 messages from Sting. With a ground he swipes to call back, drowsily expecting to listen to the  _ calling _ tune. It doesn’t happen. He gets through one beep and Sting picks up with a loud “Rogue!”

 

“Ahuh,” says Rogue, kicking his feet around the bed to get to the cold spot under the covers. “Yea?” 

 

“You have to come to Yukino’s so we can move this mattress! Orga’s going to be here soon, y’know.” 

 

Rogue lets out a tired groan and sinks into his pillow. “Yea, okay. Half an hour?” half an hour will give him plenty of time. It’s a ten minute walk to Yukino’s, so the rest can be spent getting dressed and eating something. 

 

“No!” Sting isn’t compiling, though. “Twenty minutes! This is  _ your  _ dad!” he snaps quickly, forcing a groan from Rogue. Ten minutes to get ready isn’t any time at all. He’ll have to race out of the house with uneaten toast in his mouth like a goddamn anime girl. 

 

_ I’m almost sure you like him more than I do,  _ Rogue thinks about saying, but doesn’t. Instead he sits up and listens to the sound of Sting hanging up on him, but not before nagging him to hurry just a bit more. Then he rolls out of the bed with a sigh, thinking about how nice Sting’s voice is, even when he’s being a pain. And then how it’s too early to be thinking about things like this. 

 

Ten minutes later and he’s shutting and locking the door, an old apple in his hand. It’s surprisingly crunchy for something he dug out of the back the fridge. He’s not going to think about how long it’s been hiding there. He’s not even going to think about where it came from.

 

A quick pace sets him down the streets, though he finds himself wishing he had picked out a warmer outfit. The strong breezes are biting through his thin sweater. He sucks in a breath of freezing cold air and picks up the pace.

 

He makes it to Yukino’s with two minutes to spare, but Sting is still waiting outside, looking impatiently around. His eyes light up when he sees Rogue and Rogue has to choke down the sudden desire to turn around and sprint back home when his heart does an embarrassing flip. He smiles thinly and wipes phantom sweat off his hands.

 

It appears they’ve managed to get the mattress half-way out the door, and Orga isn’t there yet. The mattress is blocking anyone from getting in or out, and by the looks of it, Yukino is still inside her house. “Finally,” Sting says with a grin and a roll of his eyes at him, and he can’t help but smile lightly back.

 

“I’m on time,” Rogue points out, shoving his hands in his pockets out of habit. He isn’t as cold anymore, to his surprise. Sting just shrugs in response. “Are we just waiting for Orga now?”   
  


“We’re going to try and get the mattress out first,” He replies with a nod. “Shouldn’t be hard, now that you’re here. Could you go in the middle?”

 

He obliges, moving to push himself against the doorframe and work his fingers under the mattress. As he does, he hears a cheerful: “Oh! Is Rogue here now?” from Yukino. A glance up and into her open doorway allows him to see her when she pops her head around. “Hi Rogue!”

 

“Hey Yukino,” he smiles at her and then turns to nod at Sting, who’s moved to the end of the mattress. “Okay, ready.”

 

“Heave!” Sting shouts and the three of them lift the mattress up. It’s not  _ massive,  _ but it isn’t light, either. Rogue thinks he got the short end of the stick, though. He has to walk sideways to get it out, shuffling along slowly while Sting and Yukino’s out of line steps throw the mattress around.

 

“Ooo,” Yukino pipes up as she slowly get nearer to the doorframe. “This is much easier.”

 

Sting agrees with nod. Rogue doesn’t, however. He wasn’t there before. Instead, he turns his head to look at Yukino. “Thanks for letting us use this.”   
  
Yukino smiles at him. “No problem! Sting convinced me i didn’t need it.” She laughs lightly. Is it him or is she looking redder then a moment before? Rogue frowns. Maybe the mattress is a bit heavy for her. He adjusts his arms, trying to take more of the weight. He doesn’t think about what she’s said until Sting laughs. He’s overheard, apparently. Rogue waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t, and neither does Yukino. He glances up to see Yukino glaring Sting down and Sting grinning smugly. Rogue frowns at both of them. Why does he always feel like he’s missing something with these two?

 

“Okay, that’s good!” Sting declares, dropping his side of the mattress with zero warning. Rogue and Yukino screech and wobble precariously. Yukino drops her side in surprise, and it goes toppling to the ground with Rogue falling on top on it. He lands face-first into the mattress with a shocked  _ oof.  _ Somewhere nearby, he can hear Sting laughing.

 

“Sting!” Yukino shrieks, immediately scolding him. Rogue sighs into the mattress. At least it’s soft.

 

“You..alright?” Sting asks between dying laughter. Rhetorical question. It’s a  _ mattress.  _ He’s probably fine. Rogue sighs again and thinks,  _ I have a crush on him.  _ The entire thought is ridiculous.

 

+++

 

Orga shows up soon after. Sting chastises him for taking so long, to which he points out that this is a  _ favour, Sting, and I can easily leave.  _ Sting splutters but eventually falls silent.

 

The plan was to have Sting and Rogue on one end, and Orga on the other. As it turns out though, Orga’s strength easily surpasses their collective strength, and he ends up carrying the mattress himself. If anything, they just get in the way. 

 

Instead, Sting serves as a lookout in front, and Rogue discusses the probabilities of getting struck by lightning more than once and factors of that possibility (depending on how much metal one has on them) at Orga’s request. 

 

(Rogue really has no idea what he’s saying. At one point, he starts talking about black lightning. Rogue is completely lost)

 

They get the mattress inside and thank Orga. “Have fun with your dad,” he says to Rogue. “I haven’t seen him in years, tell him hello from him.”

 

“Course.” Sometimes he forgets how involved Skiadrum was with his life, and his friends. “Thanks again, Orga.”

 

+++

 

They make the bed with spare sheets and a duvet hidden in the closet. It’s a tight fit with the table right there, but it’ll do. “At least we got that out of the way,” Sting says thoughtfully. Rogue nods, glancing at the way Sting’s lips curve up at the side. It’s cute. 

 

Sting notices him staring and makes a questioning noise. Rogue looks away frantically, down at his phone. “I- have to go,” he blurts. “I have a class today.” he backs away, almost tripping over his own feet, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. Sting blinks at him, watching him back away.    
  
“Oh, okay,” Sting waves at him as he stumbles out the door.

 

+++

 

The next few days pass without much happening. The air grows increasingly colder, and they don’t talk much, usually too busy going to class and working on last-minute assignments. There’s a growing air of tensing building surrounding Skiadrum’s visit, fuelled by late nights and last minute schoolwork. As the sixteenth looms closer, Rogue realizes how inconvenient the date his father arrives is. He’s coming the day they finish school for the break. They’re going to get zero breaks, whatsoever.

 

If there’s anything good that’s come out of this, it’s that Lucy and the others haven’t been heard at all. Rogue hasn’t seen them since the party. They’ve been practically non-existent. He assumed Sting was still talking to them, but Sting just shrugged when he asked him. “The group chat’s been quiet,” he explained. “And I have schoolwork.” 

 

Since there’s no need to pretend right now, Rogue finds them sliding away from each other. He supposes that’s partly his own fault, since it’s become harder to look Sting in the eye, harder to even just casually touch him, harder to do anything with him without feeling jumpy. Usually, he can write it off as overreacting, over thinking, if it was just him. But sometimes he sees it in Sting, when he’s watching tv and he asks if the blond wants to watch with him. A thing Sting usually never turned down, but lately he seems to think about it more before deciding. Seems to weigh possibilities Rogue will never know about. 

 

And then he’ll smile thinly and tell Rogue he’d  _ love to,  _ but he has an assignment he  _ really  _ has to finish, and disappear back into his room, leaving Rogue with a vague sense of being crushed to pieces.

 

It’s not like anything has changed between them, Sting is still  _ Sting,  _ but he’s been a little more physically reserved lately. He knows it probably means nothing, but can’t help the feeling of dread, snaking into his chest.

 

+++

 

On the tenth of December, it finally snows. Rogue wakes to Sting blasting  _ I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas  _ as he slams his door open. “Rogue!” He jumps on the bed, narrowly missing Rogue’s legs. “Wakey wakey, We’re going outside today!”

 

Rogue swats at him uselessly. He tries to say “get out, I’m sleeping,” but it comes out garbage, and Sting is unfazed. 

 

“Come on, come on, we gotta go out before it all melts!”  he’s bouncing now on the mattress. And there’s still christmas music, blasting in his ear. Rogue groans loudly, trying to pull the blankets over his head, trying to sink into the warmth. Unfortunately, Sting is weighing down those blankets. He settles for a pillow over his head instead.

 

As soon as Sting realizes Rogue isn’t going to budge, he reluctantly gets off the bed and leaves. Rogue sighs in relief, but doesn’t remove the pillow from his head until he can’t hear the christmas jingles anymore. With a satisfied snort, he curls into the bed. And doesn’t notice the door open, close, and then open again.

 

One moment, Rogue is covered in blankets, and very, very warm. The next, he’s fucking  _ freezing.  _

 

Rogue screams and falls out of bed with an armful of snow on his face. He hits the ground with a thump. There’s snow everywhere, and the majority of it is on his face. Sting is standing above him,  _ absolutely losing it. _ Rogue stares at him laughing upside-down, and flips him off. There’s snow dripping into his shirt. Sting laughs harder. He’s practically on his knees now, sobbing and red in the face.

 

“Cant breathe—” he gulps. “Can’t—….oh god haha….i’m in pain, my chest, Rogue, help—”

 

“Fuck you,” says Rogue. He rolls over and attempts to wipe the snow from his face and shoulders, but most of it has melted to water and soaked into his shirt. Very cold water. Sting is lying face down on the floor. He sounds like he’s crying. “Fuck you,” Rogue says again, with less conviction. He runs a hand through his hair, slick with water. “You’re an  _ ass,  _ you know.”

 

Sting heaves a deep breath and turns his head to look at him, a goofy smile spread across his face. “I know,” he laughs. “Is it cold? You look like you’ve been in the rain.”

 

“Wh— of course it is, dickwad! Wanna see?” filled with a sudden fury, Rogue jumps to his knees and launches himself at Sting, who screeches and tries to roll away, to no avail. He captures him, making sure to aim the wettest parts of his shirt at Sting’s (very much dry) shirt. 

 

Sting screams and struggles to get free as his best friend tightens his grip around him, sending them tumbling across the floor. “Feel how cold I am!” Rogue shouts, rubbing his head vigorously against Sting’s, with the intent of destroying his hairstyle. Sting, realizing the possible fate of his hair, struggles more desperately, still yelling. Both of them are laughing within the shouting. 

 

Eventually, Sting manages to wriggle out of Rogue’s grasp and sprint out of the room, terrified laughter ringing through the house. Rogue flops onto his back, breathing hard. He closes his eyes and smiles, letting out the last of his laughter. 

 

He tumbles into the kitchen moments later, shaking loose hairs out of his eyes. Sting’s hair is  _ everywhere.  _ It’s all over his face, and sticking up in various places. Rogue bites his tongue to keep from laughing again. A snort pushes past his mouth and Sting glares at him. “This is  _ your  _ fault, you know.” he runs a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to fix it slightly. Rogue snickers again, moving past Sting to grab the cereal.

 

“You deserved it,” Rogue replies, tugging at his damp shirt. “ _ Snow,  _ Sting?” 

 

“You weren’t getting up! I’m serious about going outside. The snow is going to melt if we don’t hurry. Don’t you want to make a snowman?”

 

_ A snowman?  _ He thinks, with mild amusement. That’s incredibly childish. But....it would be fun, so he just nods along. “I haven’t even seen the snow yet,” he muses, pushing cheerios around his bowl. He hasn’t even looked out the window yet. 

 

“It’s  _ so  _ deep,” his roommate gushes. “Do you think it’ll stay until christmas?” he taps at his phone, and suddenly  _ I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas  _ is playing again.

 

“Stop that,” Rogue frowns. “And aren’t you the one worried it’ll melt before we go outside?” a side glance at the clock reveals that it’s not even ten am yet. “It’s  _ 9 o’clock?  _ It’s Saturday, Sting! I don’t even get up this early during the  _ week!”  _ not even Sting gets up this early. What was he doing awake?

 

Sting smiles sheepishly. “It’s snowing,” he says like it’s an explanation. Rogue glares at him.

 

+++

 

Half an hour later, both boys are standing outside the door, wrapped in layers of clothes. All their winter stuff was buried deep within the closet. Impossible to find. Ten minutes were spent just trying to match gloves together.

 

Rogue pulls at the scarf around his neck and agrees with Sting that it was worth it. The snow is  _ beautiful  _ out here, and goes up to his ankles at the least. It’s still coming down, but obviously less so. Everything around them is incredibly white, and covering everything. A snowflake lands on his glove. He stares at it in wonder at it’s size. 

 

Sting exhales a breath and is mesmerized by how it comes out like smoke. He laughs and Rogue can’t help but smile. 

 

The spell is broken when he whoops for joy and sprints into the small field outside their building. He does a couple twirls and then falls backwards, snow exploding around him as he lands. Rogue covers his mouth and laughs, watching Sting make a poor snow-angel in the ground. 

 

“So,” says Sting, after he’s finished the angel and brushed all the snow from his pants. “Snowman time!” he leans over to grab a handful of snow, quickly packing it into a ball shape. “I’ll start the bottom. You make the middle?”

 

“Sure,” Rogue replies, copying his actions. He packs his snowball with handfuls of snow until there’s a risk of dropping it, and then gently sets it onto the ground and pushes it along. It’s a bit uncomfortable to be bending over so far, but the snowball quickly picks up snow and grows fast. In no time, he’s shoving around a ball that comes midway up his thighs. He stops when it becomes hard to push along. 

 

Sting is still pushing his around, and for a moment Rogue’s worried that he made his own too big. It’ll be pointless if he can’t pick it up. 

 

A quick test confirms that he  _ can  _ pick it up, but only just. So he sets it back down and wanders over to watch Sting push around his own boulder of a snowball. Sting grins at him when he sees him approaching, and changes direction to push the snowball towards Rogue.  _ He’s not going to come after me, is he?  _ Rogue thinks in alarm, and then lets out a small squawk when he realized that  _ yea, he is!  _

 

Sting picks up speed, his aim incredibly accurate for someone shoving around a giant boulder of snow. Rogue jumps and quickly moves out of the way, but Sting just adjusts his position, and keeps on picking up speed as he barrels towards him. Rogue in turn puts on more speed, but he’s weighed down by the heavy snow and warm clothes he isn’t used to wearing. “Stop!” he manages between gasps of laughter. “You’re going to break it!” 

 

“Not if you move fast enough,” Sting singsongs, never stopping. Rogue jumps and moves out of the way, the edge of the snowball clipping his boot. He scrambles to the other side of the field. Sting stops, adjusts, and comes shooting down the field.

 

This continues until Sting finally slows to a halt, and collapses in the snow, panting hard. His snowball is massive and even if he wasn't out of energy, it'd be almost impossible to continue pushing around.

 

Once the danger is gone, Rogue makes his way over to stand above sting, watching him lie face first in the powder.

 

“Tired?” he asks, the smugness in his tone uncontained.

 

“Bleh,” is the reply. A hand reaches out and swats him half heartedly. He looks at it, the pathetic thing, lying floppy on the ground. 

 

There's melted snow in his boots, and seeping into his pants. The air around them has gone from light snow to heavy fog, and the condensation around them is wet and cold. He shivers slightly when a stray breeze hits his bare neck, and moves to zip his coat up higher.

 

“Come on,” he nudges Sting with his foot. “Let's finish this snowman.” Sting doesn't move. He nudges him again, harder. “You’re going to get wet.” Still nothing. A third time. The nudges are starting to seem closer to soft kicks. “We can get hot chocolate after?”

 

Sting rolls over, a gleam in his eyes. “With whipped cream  _ and  _ sprinkles?” he grins, flipping over to push himself to his feet. 

 

Rogue scoffs. “Sure, you five-year-old. It’s your hot chocolate, you can get whatever you want.”

 

Sting laughs, a puff of steam from his mouth. For some unexplainable reason, Rogue feels his heart warm, although he’s not sure why. Sting is just being Sting. He isn’t even doing anything. He averts his gaze quickly, instead deciding to cross the field to lift the second snowball. He carries it over, wobbling with every other step. Sting watches with vague amusement, grinning. He watches as Rogue scowls at him and delicately places it on the very top of Sting’s snowball. The smile of his face evaporates when the snowball wobbles off balance and Rogue grits out a very quick: “it’s going to fall.”

 

Sting hops around to the other side, muttering curses. Quickly, he grabs the other end, pushing it further towards Rogue in an attempt to balance it out. 

 

Eventually it sticks, and they both pull away, triumphantly grinning. Rogue pats some snow into the side to get it to stick better, and Sting runs off to start the head. Rogue scoffs in amusement, amazed that Sting was still full of energy.

 

The head part goes fastest, since it’s the smallest. Within minutes, Sting is hobbling over with the head tucked in his arms. He smacks it on top with a bit more force than necessary and grins at Rogue. “hot chocolate time?”

 

Rogue eyes their sorry looking snowman. “He has no face,” he points out, poking a hole where the nose  _ should  _ be.

 

He receives a blank stare in return. “We don't have any carrots,” Sting tells him flatly. Rogue shrugs. 

 

“Still…”

 

“We’ll just dig out an old scarf and hat.” Sting gives the snowman a final pat and pushes Rogue towards the sidewalk. “C’mon c’mon, hot chocolate time!”

 

+++

 

They head a few blocks into downtown, to a small cafe on the corner of the busy main road. It’s busy but not overwhelmingly crowded, which Rogue is grateful for. Nothing like being jostled helplessly by a swarm of impatient customers. 

 

He orders a simple hot chocolate for himself, and waits patiently as Sting points out every single topping that he wants. Then they sit by the window and watch all the shoppers pass by. 

 

“How long until your dad comes?” Sting asks, plucking a bright green sprinkle from the centre of his tower of whipped cream. He pops it onto his tongue. 

 

Rogue watches with disdain.  _ There’s too much sugar in that cup _ , he decides. “Six days. we should go shopping soon. Pa will have a fit if he arrives to nothing but three containers of packaged mac and cheese.”

 

Sting grumbles in response, whipped cream all over his face. Rogue laughs at him, and the conversation switches what movie they should watch tonight. 

 

+++

 

Six days later, Rogue is rudely awoken at a god-awful hour with the foreboding sense of dread.

 

Also because his phone vibrated right in his ear.

 

The sky is still pitch black. He checks his phone: 6:54 am. There's a text message on his screen but he chooses to ignore it for now. With a groan he flops back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling. He feels like he’s missing something — homework? No… Christmas presents? He went earlier that week.

 

_ Ah,  _ he realizes, suddenly wide awake.  _ We haven't done any grocery shopping.  _ He's also willing to bet the apartment is messy too.

 

With a second, more recent sense of dread, he drags his phone over to stare at the most recent message.

 

**Skiadad** 6:52

_ Just wanted 2 let u kno i’m @ the airport! I’ll be boarding soon. See u around 1pm! _

 

Rogue lets out a strangled yell.

 

+++

 

He wakes up Sting without much mercy (one hard shove sends a duvet, two pillows and a screaming best friend onto the floor). “We have to go shopping! We need food—” he stares at the pile of blankets on the floor, Sting in the midst of them, looking shellshocked and shirtless. Rogue coughs thickly and averts his gaze. “And— to clean up— uh. Vacuum… Stingpleaseputonashirt.”

 

Sting rubs his head, sitting up. “What?” he asks, looking sleepy and dazed, with good reason. “Grocery.. Ah. We forgot to do that, didn’t we?” he’s falling back asleep, grinning sleepily. Rogue frowns, trying not to look at down from his face. Luckily, the urgency of the situation distracts him. 

 

“He’s coming in six hours!” he snaps, watching as Sting waves him off and tries to snuggle back into his blanket, seemingly not realizing that he’s now on the floor. 

 

“Plenty of time,” comes the slow response, and then Sting is pretty much asleep again. Rogue huffs loudly and stomps out of the room. Whatever. He’ll do what he can and then get Sting up to go shopping. With this firm plan of action, Rogue wrangles out the tiny vacuum, mop, and duster from their closet and sets to work cleaning.

 

Sting doesn’t come out of his room until Rogue is basically done vacuuming. How the blond sleeps through the noise — he’ll never know. Sting stares at him hurry up and down the hallway with a blank stare. “What.” at least he put on a shirt. 

 

“You’re awake! I’m almost done — can you mop when I’m done? I have to clean the bathroom now.” He does a quick around the apartment again and switches the vacuum off. In a quick motion, he chucks it haphazardly into the closet and with the other hand, throws the mop at Sting. Sting jumps but reflectively catches it and blinks at it.

 

“Why?” he asks, looking mildly concerned. 

 

“Skia is coming,” Rogue tells him tersely, attacking the bathroom sink with a wipe. “in …” he glances at his phone. “Five and a half hours. And we still have to go shopping! Why didn’t we do that during the week?”

 

“School? Exams?” Sting offers, filling up the mop bucket with water. He searches through the cupboards for soap and adds that to the warm water. 

 

Rogue groans. “Oh  _ god,  _ I have class at ten!  _ You  _ have class at eleven!” Sting shrugs, pulling the bucket into the hallway and beginning to mop.

 

“At least we’re pretty much done. All our exams are over. We could...probably skip.” he looks back into the bathroom at Rogue with his eyebrows raised. Rogue scoffs.

 

“We’re not…” he considers it. “We might have to. Oh god.” he stops scrubbing the bathtub. Sting grins. Rogue frowns determinedly. “I’m going to email my professor.” he drops his sponge and practically sprints to his laptop.

 

His best friend laughs loudly. “Okay~!”

 

“You should too!” he calls back, but he knows Sting can’t be bothered to let his teacher know. With the email sent, Rogue hurries to finish the bathroom, almost slipping on the wet floor. 

 

“I should put up a sign,” Sting jokes. Rogue rolls his eyes and goes back to work.

 

+++ 

 

At ten, the house is sparklingly clean and Rogue is rushing Sting out the door and into the cold air. Their snowman is still outside, still without a nose or eyes or...anything, really. Most of the snow around the building is melted, and the snowman looks admittedly smaller as well. Rogue’s surprised it’s lasted this long, honestly.

 

They arrive at the grocery store, and Rogue whips out a shopping list. “Woah,” says Sting, looking cheeky. “Look at you, soccer mom.”

 

Rogue whacks him. “ _ Everyone  _ uses shopping lists, you neanderthal. Okay, first, we need… milk, and butter. Can you grab that? I’ll be in the fruits section.”

 

“Alright,” Sting saunters off, and Rogue plucks a shopping basket and makes his way to grab some fresh fruit and vegetables, and maybe some herbs. Skiadrum used basil lots, didn’t he? Rogue grabs a bundle and shoves them in his basket along with various vegetables and fruit that seemed usual to have in a normal house.

 

Sting appeared shortly later with two bars of butter and a large jug of milk. He plunks it into the basket ungracefully. Rogue  _ oofs _ at the sudden load. Already, the basket is getting full. “Do we need a cart instead?” Sting asks, eyeing the basket. Rogue nods and he disappears to the front of the store. He returns with a cart and Rogue gratefully transfers the basket’s contents into the cart. “We’ve never had to use a  _ cart  _ before,” Sting points out, looking amused.

 

They rush between aisles, grabbing various foods that they had never thought to grab before — things like baking soda and flour had never really crossed Rogue’s mind when he went shopping before. Garlic, raw meat, onions, spices, oreo ice cream — ”Sting,  _ no.”  _

 

They bring their groceries up to the till and the cashier rings them up. Rogue pays reluctantly — they’re never paid  _ this much  _ for food,  _ holy shit —  _ and they divide the bags between them. Sting checks his phone as they’re walking through the doors and jumps. “Oh shit, Rogue, It’s  _ 11:36.”  _

 

_ “What?”  _ Rogue practically yelps, his grip on the bags tightening. “What the fuck?” He immediately sets off in a brisk pace, close to jogging. Sting rushes to keep up, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

 

And then Rogue’s phone buzzes. He stops, sets down a bag, and looks at it. It’s from his father. 

 

**Skiadad** now

_ Arrived at airport! B @ ur house in about 20 mins! Cant wait 2 see u! _

 

“Run,” Rogue tells Sting, shoving his phone in his pocket, picking up the placed bag and  _ booking  _ it.

 

They crash into the apartment at 11:42, a new record for fastest arrival home. Rogue slams his bags onto the counter and throw open the fridge and begins piling food inside haphazardly. Sting takes the cue and follows his lead, flying around the kitchen to put food in different cupboards. 

 

“Where do I put these?” he asks frantically, holding up an armful of spices. Rogue stares at them.

 

“I don’t know! We’ve never had spices! The cupboard with the mac and cheese??” he slams the fridge closed and shoves a bunch of frozen meat in the freezer. That’s where it goes, right? 

 

Sting makes a worried noise and shoves all the containers into the mentioned cupboard, screaming briefly when several of them fall from his arms and onto the floor. He snatches them up and throws them in.

 

The doorbell rings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is [ here ](%E2%80%9Dghostlaments.tumblr.com/%E2%80%9D) if you feel like yelling at me for new chapters （〃￣∇￣）


	12. Lots of cooking in this one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Everything you do it sends me_  
>  Higher than the moon with every  
> Twinkle in your eye  
> You strike a match that lights my heart on fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. have no excuse. Just. I'm back now, and i apologize for the wait, thanks for being patient! I love you all lots.

Sting sprints to answer the door while Rogue throws the empty plastic bags under the sink. He’s rounding the counter as Sting is throwing open the door and happily exclaiming “Skia! Hello!”

 

His father is standing in the doorway, smiling brightly as Sting gives him an enthusiastic hug. He looks better than the last time Rogue saw him — which was months ago. Relieved, he moves to stand behind Sting, waiting patiently as Skiadrum sees him amidst his hug with Sting and excitedly lets go of the blonde. “Ru!” he captures Rogue in a bearhug, suitcase falling to the ground.

 

“Hey pa, how are you?” he asks, returning the hug. A quick wink to Sting, who grins and shoots him a thumbs up in referral to what they just accomplished. Fridge is stocked, house is clean, makeshift bed is set up — seems like they have everything under control. Just in time, too.

 

“Very good, my boy, and even better seeing you two!” His father pats Rogue on the shoulders, nice and firm. “How’s college life treating you?”

 

A shrug from his son. “Same as usual,” Rogue tells him, helping him shrug off the large coat he’s wearing. “busy but enjoyable. Lots of exams. I drink a lot more coffee now.”

 

Skiadrum laughs at that, a hearty thing. He really is doing much better. For a moment Rogue feels a sense of excitement — eager hope for the coming days. He’s going to have a nice time with his father, and Sting. “Should we start lunch?” he asks, sliding the coat onto an open hook. There weren’t many of them left, just a single one between his and sting’s coats. Sting is walking Skia into the kitchen, chatting excitedly and sounding like a happy bird. Rogue smothers the goofy smile working its way onto his face and turns to join them.

 

“And Orga told us to tell you hello, by the way. I swear, he packs more muscle every time i see him.” There’s a knife in his roommate’s hand, and he’s waving it like a moron, punctuating thoughts with the sharp point. Rogue stares at it, concern wiping the smile from his face.

 

“Sting!” he barks, marching over. “What are you doing?” It’s not like he can take the knife from him safely, so he opts to standing beside his amused father and glaring at Sting from the other side of the counter. “Put that down, are you an idiot?”

 

Idiot in question stares at him blankly. “What? I’m making lunch.” his features twist into confused irritation at being so suddenly barked at.

 

Rogue huffs. “fine, but don’t wave the knife around like that!”

 

“oh. _oh_ .” the knife goes down, set calmly on the countertop. Another sigh emits from Rogue’s mouth. _honestly!_

 

He directs his attention downwards, suddenly noticing the ingredients strewn across the countertop. Ingredients they had just put away. “What are we making?” he asks.

 

“Not sure. I was thinking the spaghetti? Skia, do you fancy spaghetti?” Sting nudges the older man lightly.

 

Skia chuckles. “I will eat anything and you know it,” he tells him.

 

“Spaghetti it is, then,” Sting smiles, pulling the box of past from out of the cupboard. they eat a lot of pasta, Rogue realizes, catching a glimpse of the packages of kraft dinner in the back. Not really good ones, either. He hums lightly and steps around the counter to help Sting.

 

“What else do we need out?” he pulls out tomato sauce and a pot. “We haven’t made spaghetti in forever.” He bumps past Sting as he moves to grab a cutting board, knocking him slightly off-balance. Sting bumps him back, scowling playfully. Rogue rolls his eyes and scoffs, but grins as soon as he has his head in the cupboard.

 

“You don’t have to hold back in front of me, you know,” Skia pipes up from his seat, looking cheeky. Rogue frowns, his head still in the cupboard.

 

“What do you mean?” he calls, grabbing the cutting board, and is met with a chuckle.

 

“I know you aren’t a fan of PDA, Rogue, and it might embarrassing in front of your father, but I don’t mind! feel free to romance it up!”

 

Rogue’s head goes straight into the top of the cupboard with a massive bang. _Shit!_ he had forgotten all about that. He falls backwards out of it, hitting the counter behind him. “Rogue!” Sting yelps, voice strained. “Are you okay?”

 

Rogue stares up at him, the thought boyfriend running through his head like a broken tape. “th, uh,. fine, I—” he rubs his head where he hit it in two places. “just, my head…” He can hear skia getting up his seat.

 

Sting drops to his knees. “Oh Are You Sure Rogue? I Want To Check Your Head Just In Case!” he glances quickly over his shoulder. “Come On, I’ll Check It In the Bathroom, The Lighting is Better There.” He pulls a very confused Rogue up and to his feet, and then drags him into the bathroom. “We’ll be right back Skia!! Hang tight!”

 

and the door shuts, locks.

 

Rogue rubs his head, still disgruntled. “Wh—“

 

“I FORGOT,” Sting says suddenly, loudly. Rogue blinks at him and scrambles to cover his partner’s always too-loud mouth.

 

“Shh!” he gestures to the door. “You know our walls are thin, shut up! I forgot too. I am so sorry.” He glances back at sting, who is glancing curiously at his fingers. Rogue frowns, wondering why his expression sets something warm in his chest. He pulls away, feeling suddenly nervous. “Don’t lick my hand,” he warns as a way of diffusing the feeling of anxiety.

 

Sting grins thinly back. “So uh, what do we do? Your dad knows us better than lucy.”

  


Rogue sighs, because Sting has a point. They need a bit of a battle plan. “he’s going to expect _you_ to be affectionate,” he says slowly, a twitchy feeling of needing something to do with his hands growing bigger. “So, um. You’ll have to. do that, uh. if you don’t mind…” God, what is happening to him?

 

“I don’t mind,” says Sting, surprisingly quiet. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable though.” He sits down on the toilet, looking strangely small and timid. Rogue frowns, wishing he could know what he was thinking. Sting has become increasingly harder to read, lately.

 

“I won’t be.” he replies slowly, carefully. “What about you?”

 

He gets a sharp laugh in reply. “Me? No, i—“ a pause. His best friend stalls a minute, mind backtracking. In his face there’s a movement, almost like a wince, and then he smiles back up at Rogue. “You know how i am! I love affection and attention!”

 

Rogue huffs out a small chuckle. “Yea, I—” he pauses, hands twitching behind his back. he can’t even look Sting in the eyes anymore, when did that happen? “Don’t mind affection when it’s you. Or Yukino,” he tacks on hastily, glancing at the ceiling, not seeing the sudden light in Sting’s eyes fizzle out like a dowsed candle.

 

“Right,” Rogue looks up to the voice and suddenly Sting is on his feet, smiling forcibly. “Looks like your head is fine, Rogue. Nothing to worry about. Let’s go back and finish lunch.” he clicks the door open. Rogue nods and follows him, nodding slightly. His heart is pounding faster than it should and it’s starting to unnerve him. Is every crush like this?

 

Skia is looking smug at the table when Sting and Rogue return, a hand under his chin and a slight smile on his face. “How’s your head, Ru?” he asks, clearly faking concern. Rogue deadpans at him.

 

“Fine, pa. How’s yours?” he asks sarcastically, sliding around the counter.

 

Sting laughs. “No damage, just a bump. Babe must just injured his pride.”

 

Across the counter, Rogue twitches, but not from the sly insult.

 

His father laughs again as Rogue retrieves the fallen cutting board. “Sting, I never realized you were the pet name type.”

 

Sting shrugs easily. “what can i say? I like the idea of calling my dearest something cuter than his name.”

 

“Hey,” says Rogue without any drive.

 

Sting takes this as another jumping off point. “Kidding! To insult your name is to insult our guest. Love you.” his voice jumps a little at the end, but Rogue hardly notices over his own face exploding into a red colour. _Dammit,_ he thinks. _He’s said it before, get a hold of yourself._

 

He hastily chops up the onions for the sauce. maybe he can play off his red face as a part of the tears streaming down his face. Wow, onions hurt.

 

“Put these in,” he tells Sting, shoving the sloppily chopped onions in his direction, eyes streaming. The blonde nods and takes them, adding them to the pot of tomatoes that’s starting to bubble. Skia stands up. “Anything i can help with?”

 

“Nono,” Sting waves him away. “You’ve been travelling all day, let us do this. Besides—“ he nudges Rogue with his hip, who jumps slightly at the touch. “We work well as a duo. A pair. A couple.”

 

“Stiiing,” exasperation hints his tone. “Stop being a sap.”

 

Sting rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue in reply and stirs in a handful of spices that Rogue hopes are suppose to go in.

 

He moves beside him, getting out a big pot. they don’t have the strainer that’s suppose to go inside, so hopefully a normal pasta strainer will do. He sets the pot of water on the stove and cranks up the heat, and then steps back for a moment.

 

Immediately, Skia pins him from across the counter. “So, Ru, my boy, give me the details.”

 

“What do you mean?” Rogue asks slowly, already sweating bullets.

 

“About you two! You never rang me up and told me, of course I’m curious!” skip pats his arm. “A simple ‘hey pa I’m dating Sting now,’ would have been nice.”

 

“R—right. Sorry about that. It’s been…busy.” Rogue glances at Sting, who’s stirring slower, head tilted back a bit. “There’s not much, to uh, say? it hasn’t been long, right Sting?” he’s drilling holes into Sting’s back. Sting nods.

 

“Only three months,” he calls over. “Almost four.”

 

“Oh, anniversary!” Skia laps this detail up like an eager dog. “So, who was it that confessed first?”

 

Rogue slumps into himself. _tell sting how he feels about him?_ even imagining it is painful. he doesn’t put that burden on Sting.

 

“Me,” Sting answers easily, and Rogue is taken back at how easily the response comes. There’s no thought behind it. Sting is a better actor than he realized.

 

“You, Sting?” Skia turns his attention to him and Rogue relaxes for a moment. “Hm, should have expected. How’d you do it?”

 

Sting visibly stiffens. “Well, Y’know, not well.”

 

“you weren’t drunk, were you?”

 

Rogue chokes. Sting jumps a little. “No, of course not!” he waves his spoon, tomato sauce goes everywhere.

 

“Sting!” snaps Rogue.

 

“Sorry.” The spoon goes back in the pot.

 

There’s a moment of silence. “I was a little bit drunk,” Sting confesses.

 

“What?” says Rogue, and then collects himself to play along. “You never told me that!”

 

“it was a confession!” sting snaps back, seemingly genuinely into the act. “I didn’t want to _ruin_ it.”

 

Skiadrum chuckles quietly behind them. “Intense.” A glance at Rogue. “Was it a good confession at least?”

 

Oh, that one’s easy. “It was,” Rogue relents. “Good enough for me to start dating him, anyway.”

 

“Hey!”

 

His father pats him on the back. “I approve of your choice.”

 

“ _Hey!_ “ Sting frowns, turning around. “Both of you? Rogue, my own boyfriend?”

 

Rogue chuckles. “Sorry Sting,” the pot is starting to bubble, so he checks the pasta. it looks pretty much done. “How’s the sauce looking?”

 

“Nearly there!” Sting gives it an experimental stir. “Yea, almost done. How’s the spaghetti?”

 

Rogue nods. “Done. i’ll just set the table. Wanna help, Pa?”

 

Skia nods. “Of course!”

 

Rogue pulls the plates and cutlery down and hands the forks and knives to his father, who hums a happy tune as they start setting out the table for three.

 

“So,” says Skia in a low tone, slapping forks down loudly.

 

“Hmmm,” Rogue says as a way of response.

 

“You like him?”

 

“Wh— of course i do, he’s my boyfriend?” Rogue eyes Skia suspiciously. Skia shrugs lightly.

 

“Yea, but, you do like him like that, right? You’ve always been a softie, don’t do it because you feel bad. You’re allowed to turn him down.”

 

Rogue stops. Stares at him. “I wouldn’t?” he says in a small but firm tone. “I wouldn’t do that, doesn’t matter who it was. I can take of myself, Pa.”

 

Skia nods, meeting his eyes. Rogue realizes, — not for the first time, but it’s always a surprise, — that he has to glance down slightly to meet his father’s face. It was inevitable that he would become taller than his father, but to face it sometimes is a surprise.

 

“I know that, Rogue.” Skia says, and for a moment his age shows on his face. An older parent than most, already getting into his 60s. He smiles thinly, tired, tired, and nods. “Yea. You can take care of yourself.” The last fork is placed, so he moves from the table. Rogue follows him, a sort of mellow feeling lingering in his chest that is swept away when Sting turns around with the finished pot of pasta in his arms.

 

“Dinner’s ready!” he announces cheerfully, wiggling the pot slightly. “Time to eat!” With a dramatic flourish, he sets it down in the centre of the table and then slides into a seat beside Rogue, making sure to be obvious about moving his chair closer to his “boyfriend’. _Cute,_ Rogue thinks, watching him do this.

 

“Here you go, babe,” Suddenly there’s a heaping of spaghetti on his plate that Sting has conveniently plopped down. He moves onto Skia, tilting the serving spoon meaningly. “Would you like more or less?”

 

“More, yes, please.” Skia rubs his hands together, watching the pasta fall onto his plate. “This looks delicious! thank you boys.”

 

Rogue shovels a forkful into his mouth as Sting chirps, “I hope so! We haven’t made it in a while, wasn’t sure I remembered how.” Woah, it wasn’t bad. Rogue scoops another bite into his mouth. Could’ve used more salt, maybe. His dad seems to be enjoying it too, eagerly slurping it up and chatting with Sting between bites. What are they even saying? Rogue has stopped listening. He tries to focus back in the conversation but finds his concentration slipping. He settles for staring at the way Sting’s jaw moves when he speaks instead.

 

And jeez, was it hard to concentrate on anything else. Sting is an expressive person, Rogue knows this, but over the years he’s grown accustomed to his friend’s constant constant constant movement in everything he does. So to watch him beside him, moving and fidgeting and moving some more really throws the whole boy in perspective.

 

Sting, Rogue finds, is being thrown into perspective for him a lot, lately.

 

“Yea, Rogue?”

 

Rogue blinks, turns his attention up. Sting is looking at him expectantly. “I’m sorry, what?” he asks. His friend quirks an eyebrow.

 

“You were staring,” he answers patiently. “Did you want to add anything?”

 

Rogue flushes in morbid embarrassment. Maybe Sting will believe he was just doing his part, pretending to be in love. Rogue stammers for a quick answer, something to explain his actions and sell the act to his father.

 

“No, not really. Just admiring the view.”

 

There’s a quiet clink of Skia’s fork hitting his plate. Rogue jumps at the sudden silence. Sting has gone still, eyes wide and face slowly growing pinker and pinker. Was that too far? Whoops. Thinking back, that was a pretty…forward…statement…

 

Rogue goes stiff as well. The silence ticks on, Skiadrum across the table, watching in amusement. He messily slurps up a strand of spaghetti and waves his fork at them. “Four months and you still aren’t comfortable with mushy compliments? That’s cute.”

 

That snaps Rogue out of it. “Pa!” he yelps, jumping in his seat.

 

His father just shrugs good-heartedly in reply. “What? It’s all good. You two are a slow couple, I can respect that.” He scrapes the rest of his pasta together and shovels it down. “This was good! Good work boys. Thanks for the meal.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to have you with us!” Sting barks out, hastily jumping to his feet. Before Rogue can react, he’s scooped up Rogue’s empty plate as well and whisked it to the kitchen, leaving him sitting at the empty table, still a little thrown.

 

That was out of Rogue’s usual zone. Immediately, he’s hit with a sudden dread, one that he might not be able to keep his mouth shut when he should. Which sounds like more of a Sting thing to do, since he’s always running his mouth. With a tired sigh, Rogue stands up, clearing away the rest of the things on the table. He’s going to have to watch himself more often. At least it helped with convincing his father. Rogue hardly ever shows a lot of affection unless he’s joking around, so maybe his father will realize that he’s actually in love with Sting and not just ‘doing it because he feels bad’ which isn’t true at all.

 

Plus the additional fact that he _actually isn’t faking being head over heels for Sting_ does lend a hand with being able to say things he would never dream of saying otherwise.

 

When most of the kitchen is cleared up, Skia goes to get his bags by the door, telling them to relax while he goes and sets them up by the mattress. “How much stuff did your dad bring?” Sting asks, flopping down on the couch. Rogue settles beside him, being sure to keep a comfortable distance. If Sting notices, he doesn’t let on.

 

“Do you remember, when we went camping for the weekend that one time?” He asks softly, folding in his legs.

 

A nod from Sting, who thankfully mimics his quiet tone. Skiadrum rustles in the background. “Yea course, by the cold waterfall? I fell in.”

 

Rogue has to stifle a laugh at that. “Yea that one. Do you remember all the things he brought? A heater, even though it was the middle of summer?”

 

Sting snorts in amusement. It’s a nice sound. “I see your point.”

 

Skiadrum stands up and stretches. “Well boys, I think I’ll take a nap.”

 

“Hm, alright,” Rogue nods. “Come on Sting, let’s finish up the kitchen. We’ll figure out what to make for dinner.”

 

“I’m thinking the chicken,” Sting says when they’re in the kitchen, hanging out quietly by the window. Skiadrum has gone still, but it’s best to wait until he’s completely asleep, because then, nothing will wake him.

 

“Oh, good idea,” Rogue nods. “What time? Five?”

 

“Five or six, so it gives your dad some time to nap. A nap, hmmm.. doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Rogue shrugs, because it really doesn’t. Three hours until they should get going, but until then, nothing’s planned. Perfect amount of time to take a quick snooze.

 

“Should we?” Sting eyes him. He blinks back, waiting for an explanation.

 

“Should we what?”  
  
“Take a quick nap.”   
  
“Oh. Sure. Yea, that’s not a bad idea.”   
  
Sting steps out of the kitchen and gestures to Rogue, heading for the couch. Rogue follows, slightly confused. “We have beds, you know.”

 

Sting lands with a thump on the couch.  “Come here.”

 

“What?” says Rogue, staring at him. His hand twitches. If Sting is saying what he thinks he’s saying…

 

“You want to sell this to your father, don’t you?” Sting isn’t meeting his eyes. _Oh._ “We’ve done it before, anyway, it’s not weird, is it?”

 

 _No, but that was before i realized,_ Rogue thinks crossly, feeling his heat thump thump a bit faster. _Ugh, don’t do that!_

 

His nerves are telling him to sprint outside, but Sting looks really welcoming and expectant, so he hesitantly steps over and sits next to him. “No,” Sting shakes his head. “I mean, _actually_ come here.”

 

“Wh—” says Rogue, but before he can get Sting to elaborate, his friend has pulled him his arms, his hands joining around Rogue in a smothering imprisonment. Rogue goes still.

 

“Oh,” escapes from his mouth, quietly. His heart is pounding. Sting can probably feel it. He fidgets and the other boy eyes him suspiciously. “At least let me get comfortable,” he explains in a rush, more defensively than he probably should. Sting just chuckles in reply, but loosens his grip to let Rogue switch around so that his back is resting on his friend’s chest.

 

“Better?” Sting laughs, resting his arms around Rogue’s shoulders. He nods and blinks, feeling the weight on his eyes. Despite his heart thumping pretty out of control, he still feels pretty tired. Although, it’s hard to sleep when he can feel Sting’s own chest rise, fall, rise, fall.

 

_Oh,_

 

_Sting’s heart is beating pretty fast too._

 

It’s not as fast as Rogue’s, really, but it’s faster than normal. Rogue frowns towards at the ceiling, and contemplates that. Could it be that him here is making Sting jumpy?

 

That makes sense, after all, Rogue’s pretty anxious about what will happen when Skia finds them like this, even though that’s the plan all along. He knows his dad supports them full heartedly, but there’s a lingering sense of worry that he’ll see through the façade. He knows them better than Lucy Heartfillia, after all.

 

It’ll be fine, it’s only a week. A week and then Rogue can stop feeling guilty about the entire thing.

 

Sting’s heartbeat has slowed down, Rogue realizes. He’s also very warm. Very cozy. Rogue is very tired. He shuffles his legs just a little, trying not to disturb Sting too much, and then,

 

“ _Woah!_ what do we have here?”

 

Rogue blinks his eyes open to Sting’s arm around him and his face pressed gently to Sting’s chest. He must’ve flipped around in his sleep. He mumbles something incoherent and closes his eyes again.

 

Skia prods him between the shoulders, right on the weak part of his spine. Rogue jolts.

 

“Pa!” he gasps, sitting up. Below him, Sting startles awake.

 

“it’s 5pm,” Skia grins down at them. “Do you plan to sleep the entire day?”

 

Rogue drags a hand through his hair, only messing it up further. “Mmm. mm no. we should…” he stares down at Sting, still groggy from waking up so suddenly. Sting blearily stares up at him, looking about the same. “..make dinner or something. Come on Sting, lets get up.”

 

Sting breathes a laugh, looking completely out of it. “Sure,” He smiles lazily.

 

Rogue’s heart does a small flip flop. To ignore this, he jumps off the couch quickly, fixing up his clothes. “We’re gonna make chicken for dinner, sound like a plan, Pa?”

 

Skia nods eagerly. “Sure! I’ll give you a hand, now that I’m all unpacked and rested.”

 

Rogue gives him a quick thumbs up, heading into the kitchen to seek out the chicken and the recipe book. They only have one. He’s not completely sure the chicken recipe is even in there.

 

It is.

 

Luckily for the boys, dinner goes smoothly. The chicken cooks like it’s suppose to, sting doesn’t spill the newly acquired spices, and nothing catches on fire. Sting highfives Rogue under the table when they finally settle around the small table.

 

“Well! I must say, that was delicious,” Skia declares after his last bite.

 

Rogue grins as Sting thanks Skia for the compliment, mimicking his father’s polite tone. “I’m very flattered you enjoyed it! You had a hand in it as well, so we mustn't take all the credit. Now, shall i clear away the plates?”

 

“That would be divine,” Rogue tells him, sucking in his lip to keep from laughing. “Father, shall we retire to the living room?”  
  
Skia rolls his eyes.

 

Rogue moved Skia to the living room, listening to the distant sound of Sting clanking pots and plates together as he cleaned up and put things away. As Skia got comfy, his son plugged in a speaker to play background music. Something soft, just a filler for the quiet. He chooses the playlist and then goes to sit with his father.

 

“Your studies are going well?” Skia asks. Rogue nods.

 

“They keep me busy, that’s for sure, but I’m doing my best to keep up.” He glances back at the kitchen — Sting is about halfway done. “Have you spoken to the Eucliffes lately?” He almost feels the need to drop his voice, but that’s not fair to Sting. Besides, it’s unlikely he can hear them over the music.

 

His father pauses, looking wistful. “Indeed. They’re doing better. Nice folks, those two.”

 

Rogue makes a sharp noise at the back of his throat.  Skia picks up on this. “Oh hush, you always held grudges too long. So what if you had a few bad encounters? Think about your boyfriend, he had to live with them.”

 

 _Boyfriend_ rings in his head so sharply he almost misses everything else Skia says. He coughs forcefully to get his mind back on track. “Yea, I know, and I feel and for him! They were…” he waves his hand. “Less than satisfactory, that’s for sure.”

 

Skia chuckles. “Like I said, they’re getting better.”

 

“Fine. But they weren’t as good a parent as you, is all I’m saying.”

 

There’s a pause, and then his father bursts out in surprised laughter. “Ru!”

 

At that moment, Sting comes around the corner. “Kitchen is clean,” he announces. “What are we talking about in here?”

 

Smugly, Skia replies. “Ru was just telling me what a good parent I am! The best around, hmmmm Rogue?”

 

Sting laughs. “Sure he did.” He stalls for a moment, catching Rogue’s eye. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Sting cheerfully plunks himself down on the couch, sinking into Rogue’s side cozily. Rogue makes a ghk sound in the back of his throat.

 

“What have you been doing lately?” Sting asks, ignoring his ‘boyfriend’s’ sudden surprise.

 

“Hm? the usual. Work, studies. I did pick up a new hobby though! Knitting. It’s great as a past time, did you know?”

 

“Knitting?” Rogue echoes. “Isn’t it tedious?” the constant repetition of the same movement, over and over…

 

“Not as much as you think. Quite relaxing, actually. Maybe I can teach you one day?”

 

Rogue smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

 

Sting piped up. “Sure, why not? Could be fun! and it’s a good skill to learn, I think.”

 

“Atta boy,” Skia patted him on the shoulder. He sat back in his spot, eyes dancing around the room. They landed on the makeshift bed that the boys had set up for him and stayed there for a moment. “Although I do appreciate the mattress, was all the effort necessary?”

 

Sting frowned lightly. “..what do you mean?”

 

A quirk of an eyebrow from Skia. “Well, i would’ve assumed, since you’re dating, you would. You know, share a bed?”

 

“WHAT,” Rogue jolts, forgetting not to be obvious. Sting glances at him worriedly and he hastily composes himself. “I mean, we. Uh! We don’t. Um. We don’t share a bed?”

 

“That’s right,” Sting chimes in, fiddling with his hands nervously. “You’ve seen those beds! Too small. You think my single can hold both me and Rogue? Kid’s got legs for days, he’ll kick me off.” He trails off but covers it with a sharp laugh. Luckily, it’s enough for Rogue to jump off on.

 

“Ha! Yea, and Sting moves too much. Remember when we would share a bed? I woke up on the floor so many times.”

 

Skia laughs. “Alright, alright. Have you thought about pushing your beds together?”

 

Sting shoots a desperate glance at Rogue who stares back at him for a moment, mind working fast as Sting fumbles with his words. “We…”

 

“Aren’t ready,” Rogue interjects quickly, leaning forward. “Going slow, you know?”

 

Skia’s eyebrows shoot up in understanding. “Oh!” he says, reaching over to slap Rogue on the leg. “Of course. At your own pace.”

 

“Thanks Pa,” Rogue smiles warmly. He heaves a yawn which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sting, who turns around to look at him skeptically.

 

“Tired?” he asks playfully. Rogue shrugs back.

 

“Guess so,” he says, shuffling to turn to his father. “Gonna go to bed, that alright with you, Pa?”

 

“Of course! I should head off soon too, but perhaps i’ll catch up with Sting first.”

 

“Sure. Goodnight.” he takes a risk and quickly pecks Sting on the cheek, before jumping up and hurrying to his room.

 

He does feel tired, but he lies awake in his bed for a while after turning off the lights, trying to mentally plan the next week in his head. First day went well, although that was a close call. Hopefully the entire week goes smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm hm i hope to move into Sting POV next chapter! it's been a while since he's had a say.


	13. Some things, are meant to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Take my hand,_  
>  Take my whole life, too  
> For I can't help... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slides by wearing heelies and sunglasses, holding a cup that says 'Sorry For the Wait' in glitter 
> 
> (long story short: hit the biggest writing block in my Life)  
> (enjoy this filler chapter)

Sting lies awake in the morning. he listens to the steady hum of the apartment beside them, the whirring of heating and laundry and showers and everything. His apartment is quiet and still. there’s no one awake, or at least no one he can hear.

 

He’s too sleepy to get up or even move his legs, but too awake to fall back into dreaming. So he lies in that half-sleeping state, just listening to the soft sounds around him. Not often does he get to do that — be still and silent. It always feels like he’s trying to get up and move.

 

Something next door hits the ground. It takes a moment for him to register that it’s Rogue getting out of bed. Heavy footsteps cross the floor, pause — the door creaks open — then continue down the short hallway. Sting relaxes back into his pillow. he doesn’t feel like getting up just yet, and he’s willing to bet that it’s way too early to be awake anyway.

 

God, he didn’t sleep enough last night. Being on his phone after having a conversation with Rogue’s dad? Terrible combination.

 

_ Skiadrum…  _ Sting thinks, letting a soft frown cross his lips. He loves Skia like a father, but he isn't blind to his flaws. He's a nosey man, and maybe he means well, but he can be very irritating. Sting decides that he's not going to let himself get stuck alone with him again. He's gonna stick to Rogue like glue in Skiadrum's presence.   
  
Last night wasn't a good encounter. it's already starting to flood back into his brain, whether he wants it back or not. Sting groans and flips onto his stomach as he remembers the conversation.   
  
Well, at least Rogue kissed him goodnight. That was a definite highlight. If he tries, he can recall the tickling feeling of Rogue's hair against his face and his soft soft lips. His lips turn up of their own accord.    
  
And then Rogue disappeared to bed, and then…   
  
  


 

" _ Four months, huh." _ __   
  
  


 

And then Skiadrum started questioning him. Sting's smile drops back into a line.   
  
  
  
_"Mmm,” Memory-Sting replies without thought. He pulls his eyes away from Rogue’s door. It had just closed. Sting was thinking about the kiss he just received._ _  
_ _  
_ _“How long have you liked him? Five years, six years?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He jolts violently out of his clouded thoughts. “Wh— that’s such a long estimation! Give me some credit.” he tries to laugh goodheartedly, but Skiadrum doesn’t seem to be having it._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Sting, you were coming over to my house almost every day since 6th grade. I’ve been watching you watch my son for years.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He sinks into the couch, wishing he could be swallowed up. “That obvious, huh…”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Extremely.  I’m not an idiot. I’m happy for you. You’re good for him, you make him.. actually do things.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Oh.” Sting isn’t sure what kind of compliment that’s supposed to be, but he’ll take it. “Thank you. You’re a good father, Skiadrum.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Skiadrum laughs. “No need to flatter me, Sting. Just take care of him, yea? Don’t do anything stupid and don’t force him into anything.”_ _  
_  
  
  
That line still sticks to him. He rolls it over in his head, thinking, thinking, thinking. Force him? Force him into anything? Like what? Sting tries not to come to the obvious conclusion.  
  
  
  
 _"Force—what?" The question splutters out of him._ _  
_  
 _Skiadrum shrugs. "We both know he can be a bit of a pushover."_ _  
_ _  
_ _He looks away, out the dark window. Sting frowns at his own lap. Rogue can be a softie, maybe, but a pushover? Never seemed like the type._ _  
_ _  
_ _He decides not to push the matter. He already feels like he's treading on thin ice._   
_  
__"Y-yea. I’ll. I’ll take care of him. He’s my best friend, what do you think I’ve been doing for the past years?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Skiadrum barks out a laugh. “fair enough, fair enough. Alright, it’s late. You should follow your boyfriend to bed. I’m going myself.”_ _  
_  
  
  
And then he had gone to bed. They had both gone to bed, but Sting had decided to play tap-tap rhythm games for a good hour until he had fallen asleep.  
  
  
He finds his phone on the floor and unlocks it. Pause menu music plays from where he left off, cheerfully mocking him for failing to get a perfect score. With a small sigh he hits the home button and flicks to the messaging app. No one's texted him. The group chat's been quiet for days, but that's to be expected. Lucy's spending Christmas with the Strauss's (what a surprise, Sting thinks with a huff of a laugh), Natsu is with his own father, Erza's got some guests and Gray is out partying with Cana and Juvia.   
  
He closes the app and absentmindedly decides to scroll through his pictures. Meme, meme, selfie with Rogue, picture of the sky, sneak picture of Rogue studying, meme, stranger’s dog, blurry photo of Rogue… wow, Rogue’s in here more than Sting himself is.   
  
_That’s ‘cuz he’s cute,_ Sting thinks and then buries his head in his pillow. What is he doing? Fawning over Rogue _again_? Wasn't this… __thing supposed to be a way for him to get over his feelings? Now he's just more in love then before!

  
Sting groans. One of these days he’s going to do something that’s out of Rogue’s limit, that's too affectionate, and then Rogue is going to know. He's going to realize, and he's going to turn Sting down, and then it'll be awkward between them. Sting will have to move in with Yukino, and third wheel her and Minerva, and them have to move in with Lucy and Co, because he'll never be able to face Rogue.   
  
He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Instead, he angrily chucks off his blankets and rolls off the bed. He locates his haphazardly thrown shirt and after putting it on, he quickly exits his room, feet thumping across the cold wood planks. When he enters the kitchen he sees Rogue with a piece of toast and a cup of ...coffee? Tea? With all the things that Skia brought, it could easily be either.    
  
"G'morning," he says sleepily. Rogue waves at him, looking equally as tired. They stare at each other blearily for a minute, both of them completely out of it.   
  
Sting casts a glance behind him to look at Skiadrum’s unmoving state. He probably isn’t going to wake up any time soon but Sting lowers his voice anyway. "Your dad questioned me last night," he murmurs.   
  
"Ha, did he?" Rogue murmurs back in a distracted, light tone, but his eyebrows furrow. "About what?"   
  
Sting scoffs, trying to ease the tension he's brought in. "Mhm.. Y'know. Just a shovel talk, nothing big." He changes his mind about telling Rogue everything. It's too early in the morning for that. "Let's make breakfast."   
  
-   
  
The next few days begin to fall with ease. The three of them fall into a steady rhythm — Sting and Rogue's easy life quickly adjusting to accommodate Rogue's lively father.    
  
Skiadrum is usually the first one awake in the morning. He likes to sit at the counter and read his book with a cup of tea until one of the boys appears, usually bleary-eyed and dishevelled. They make coffee and wait for the final boy to appear — it's usually Rogue — before beginning breakfast and starting their day.    
  
Skiadrum brings in a domestic sort of pattern — typically, they don't think much of breakfast. Typically, breakfast is a bowl of cereal at whatever time you feel like it: 6am, 11am, 4pm on bad days… half the time, breakfast is completely overlooked.   
  
But with a guest, there's a obligation to provide, and suddenly they find themselves making  _ meals _ for breakfast — eggs, pancakes, sausages, omelettes… food they hadn't even considered before. It's a strange routine, being awake and active in the morning, but Sting quickly finds it enjoyable. He likes waking himself up to food on the stove and happy music playing while he does it.    
  
Skiadrum talks to him while they cook — telling him stories from back where they used to live. 'The Redfox's taught their cat to carry a knife in its mouth' or 'some kids blew up a trash can at your high school and now the lawn is burned'. It almost makes him sad that he's away from home and missed these things.    
  
Skia also relives some memories from when Rogue was little. Some that Sting knows (Sting and Rogue crawled onto the roof and then escaped loudly and obviously down a tree when they saw Skiadrum come home) and some that he doesn't (Rogue flushed multiple socks down a toilet and successfully clogged it, flooding the bathroom). It makes him smile to hear them.    
  
He tells Skia their own stories — like when the engineering class dismantled the cafeteria sink and the cafe was a puddle for a week, or when a professor brought and lost their pet  _ rooster _ in the vents and the school had to listen to squawking for three days.   
  
Skiadrum loves all of it. He laughs at all the right moments and reacts at the best times, completely following Sting's eccentric way of storytelling. Sting could not be more pleased.   
  


-

 

The snow outside had all melted, but there’s still some kind of seasonal spirit in the air. Every night there seems to be a new house covered in christmas lights, and even the apartment building was putting up small decorations here and there.   
  
As for Sting and Rogue, the one and only Christmas decoration they owned was broken.    
  
“You could buy more,” Skiadrum suggests, flicking the dog ear of his book. “We could go into town, do a little window shopping! Get some lights, you could hang them on your door.”    
  
The three of them are piled on the couch. Rogue's reading a book, and Sting, in his lap, is watching cat videos.    
  
Rogue rolls his eyes. "You went shopping yesterday. We don't need to go again."   
  
"No no," Skiadrum waves his book. "We went to the museum. Shopping was an afterthought."   
  
It's true that they went to the museum. It's also true that they lost Sting in the Egyptian exhibition for an hour and didn't find him till later, eating a scone in the overpriced café. Sting doesn't even like scones.    
  
It had been an interesting day.   
  
"My point still stands," Rogue snaps back. "Besides, we don't need them. We’re not going to use them more than once, and we have no where to store them. We’ll lose them immediately.”     
  
Skiadrum shakes his head. “No christmas spirit, either of you.” he clicks his tongue and flicks the page of his book again. Sting makes a mildly offended whine, but doesn't disagree.    
  
By the end of the day, Skia manages to convince them to come into town to sightsee, and by the time they come back, Sting has a small bag of Christmas lights. Skia looks pleased. Rogue does not.   
  
-

 

On the second to last day, they make pasta again. There's nothing special or remotely romantic about pasta, but Sting puts on a sappy playlist anyway. It's soothing and happy and lovely lovely lovely — both the music and the atmosphere.   
  
Earlier, they went to a movie in the afternoon, which went longer than expected, which is why they're getting back in the dark.   
  
It's late, so very late, but the skies get dark at four pm anyway, so really, it doesn't matter unless they want it to matter.   
  
it's still very late to be making pasta.   
  
  
The water is slowly coming to a boil. Rogue is stirring the sauce, and smiling at Sting whenever he looks over. Sting smiles back, checking the water every once and awhile and making small conversation.    
  
Skiadrum is watching them from across the table. Rogue insisted on him sitting back and letting them make dinner, so that's what he's doing.    
  
Sting checks his water one more time, then puts the spoon down. The song finishes, and the next one starts.    
  
He likes this song. He likes the way it sounds and he likes the way the artist sings. Almost without realizing, he starts rocking back and forth.    
  
Rogue announces, "the sauce is done," and Sting reaches for his hand and spins him around — leading his arm around his head. Rogue lets him, probably because he isn't sure what's going on until it's too late. He eyes Sting thoughtfully, playfully, when he lets go of his hand.    
  
Instead, though, of pulling his arm back to his side like he planned, Sting keeps it outstretched. Waiting. Inviting. Rogue tilts his head and his expression changes to curious.    
  
Sting isn’t good at dancing. He can’t dance and he isn’t great at singing. Singing isn’t the important part. The important part is his outstretched arm in an open invitation to dance, which he can't really do, despite previous actions.   
  
Rogue’s eyes seem to be asking exactly what he’s thinking himself. What is he doing? He looks at Sting’s hand, then to Sting’s expectant face — questioning, questioning, questioning. Questioning, even as he takes Sting’s hand and moves to join him by the stove.   
  
  
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sting murmurs, sliding his hand into place and drawing Rogue just a tiny bit closer. “You know I can’t dance.”   
  
Rogue hums in agreement. “You can sway, though, can’t you?” He flashes a look towards his father, and then carefully places his hands on Sting’s waist. “You’ve done _this_ before, haven’t you?”   
  
It's a rhetorical question, because Sting has. He’s done it plenty at school dances. They both have. Heck, they’ve even danced together, laughing behind the gym and mocking the rules and the cheesy music. All under the guise of ‘just friends’.    
  
This is different for obvious reasons, but they’re doing this now and it’s too late to back out, so Sting follows Rogue’s lead and settles his arms on Rogue’s shoulders. He rocks back and forth to the tune of the music softly filling the room. There’s something so incredibly fragile about this, he decides. Like early winter ice, reflecting the light of the morning sun.   
  
He flashes a quick look at Skia. Rogue’s father is watching them carefully from over his book. The pasta bubbles quietly behind them. When Sting catches his eye, he offers the boys a smile, something thin and fast but genuine all the same. Sting smiles weakly back. He feels embarrassed to be doing this right in front of Skia, but that’s the whole point of the entire facade, so he forces down the urge to drag Rogue from the house. Drag him into the cold night and down the road so they can dance alone, under a streetlight or something. He thinks it might be snowing again. Oh. That thought is incredibly cheesy. He focuses instead on his feet shuffling back and forth.

 

Perhaps, he thinks, he should make conversation. But Rogue is so close to him already and he thinks he’ll lose any nerves he has if he glances up and makes eye contact. So he hums instead, hums along to the music, hums straight into the next song and  _ oh, _ he didn’t put in this song, he thinks Rogue must have because he sure didn’t, and sure enough — Rogue starts humming too. Sting finally looks at him and grins softly. Rogue huffs out a laugh in reply and rests his forehead on Sting’s collarbone.

 

Behind them, the water boils and bubbles over the top.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was gonna be longer, but i looked at them dancing and decided the mood was a good place to stop  
> which hopefully means the next chapter is already started and will come faster????? (>_>; faster than this one did, anyway)
> 
> (the song at the end is only referenced, but it's the same song as the chapter summary)  
> (bc I'm cliche and sappy)  
> ( （〃▽〃）)


	14. A change of pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I wrapped it up and sent it_   
>  _With a note saying, "I love you,"_   
>  _I meant it_   
>  _Now I know what a fool I've been._   
>  _But if you kissed me now_   
>  _I know you'd fool me again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry christmas if you celebrate, happy holidays if you don't, and as always, i apologize for taking so long. Thanks for sticking with me!

Skiadrum leaves in the morning. Before he goes, he leaves a bunch of presents on the counter, warning them that they better not open them before christmas. They hug him goodbye and wave him from the doorway. The sky is still dark, thick clouds covering the stars.

 

Sting pulls Rogue inside and flops them down on the couch. 

 

“Why’s he got a flight at 7am anyway?” Sting yawns, shuffling onto his side and burying himself in the couch cushions. Rogue squishes in between his legs and the couch, humming. 

 

“I don’t know. It’s probably cheaper.”

 

“Hm.” Sting elapses into silence. The building hums with early morning machine life. Someone upstairs slams their door.

 

It’s hard to believe other people are actually awake at this time.

 

Speaking of… He nudges Sting, who doesn't even stir. He nudges him again, harder. “Get up.”

 

“ _ Why.” _

 

“You can’t sleep here. Go back to bed.”

 

“Ughhh,” Sting buries his head deeper into the cushions. Rogue pushes his legs off the couch and watches Sting’s limp body follow. He lies on the ground. 

 

“Sting,” Rogue says, exasperated. 

 

“We don’t have to pretend anymore,” he murmurs sleepily into the carpet. 

 

Rogue tilts his head at him. “What?”

 

“Skia’s gone,” he elaborates. 

 

“Oh,” says Rogue. He looks away. Sting’s technically correct, which makes his chest feel heavier for some reason, but, “Lucy still thinks we’re dating.”

 

Sting makes a humming noise, sleepy and content. “Mmm, that’s right.” he doesn’t sound disappointed. Rogue looks at him, but he can’t see the face that he’s making due to being face down in the carpet.

 

“Sting,” 

 

He’s met with silence. “Sting.” he tries again, pushing his limp body with his foot. “ _ Sting _ .”

 

Finally Sting relents and pulls himself to his feet. “Fine, mom.” he staggers off to his bedroom. Rogue watches him go, melting into the couch, lulled by the now-quiet living room. It feels nice for it to be just him and Sting again. 

 

The apartment is quiet. Rogue is content. 

 

  
❄❄❄  
  
  


at 5:23pm in a brightly-lit store, Lucy’s phone rings. 

 

It's Lisanna. 

 

Lucy almost drops her phone. 

 

She hangs up before she can even answer. Whoops. The phone buzzes at her angrily once more and cuts short when the accidental decline command goes through. Lucy stares at her phone, sighs, and continues shopping. She’ll call back if Lisanna doesn’t call again within the next hour.

 

Somewhere in the background of the store, christmas music plays. Lucy is so, so tired of christmas music. She’s heard it every day for the last two  _ months,  _ and the classical jingles are starting to wear down on her skin. Gray would agree. Christmas music  _ sucks.  _

 

It feels very surreal in the shop that she’s in. Minutes are passing into hours and with the purgatory hellscape that large stores are, Lucy has no idea what time it is. No matter. She’s here for one thing, and that’s grocery shopping. 

 

Five impulsively bought bottles of eggnog later, Lucy gets another call from Lisanna. This time, she makes sure not to hang up instead of answer. 

 

“Lee! Hi.” there’s a scoff at hearing the nickname she’s given the other girl. 

 

_ “I wanted to see how your christmas shopping is going,”  _ Lisanna chirps.  _ “But you like to ignore my calls, don’t you?” _

 

Lucy waves her hand sheepishly, aware that Lisanna can’t see it. “Didn’t mean to. Shopping is going  _ so bad. _ So badly, Lisanna. I just bought eggnog. Do you know how much eggnog? Too much. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who  _ likes  _ eggnog. I’m going to have to drink it by myself.”

 

_ “I’ll help,” _ Lisanna chirps.  _ “Eggnog is good.” _   
  


Lucy laughs, amused by the eagerness she can hear through the phone. “Thank you! You’re a lifesaver. I doubt Gray and Natsu are going to be drinking anything but the hardest alcohol we own tomorrow. I’m not sure why they insist on getting wasted every christmas eve. It just makes it hard in the morning!”   
  


Lucy gets an idea, then. One she cannot regret in a million years ever, or at least not until something goes wrong. “Hey, Lisanna, you wanna spend christmas with us?” This is a great idea. She loves having Lisanna over. She’ll even put up mistletoe and pretend it’s to watch Gray and Natsu do their best to avoid it. 

 

The line goes silent for a moment and in that moment Lucy remembers that Lisanna usually spends her christmases with her siblings. She sucks in a breath, ready to backtrack, but then Lisanna pipes up again, voice soft.  _ “I would like that. Sure.” _

 

“It’s okay?” Lucy presses. “You sure? I know it’s a family thing for you, but,”

 

_ “No! No, I’d like to spend it with you. ...with you guys. That’d be really nice. My siblings can handle a year without me anyway. Besides, I think they’re both inviting their signifs and I don’t want to fifth wheel, you know? So spending it with you and the boys, that’d be nice. Yea.” _ __  
  


Lucy chuckles into the phone. “Sounds like a plan. Help me finish this eggnog, okay?”   
  


_ “Of course. Have you gotten the boys presents?” _

 

“Natsu, yes. Gray, no. He’s so picky, Lisanna. It’s like I never know what he’ll use or what he’ll even  _ like!” _

 

The cashier is ringing up Lucy’s stuff. She briefly mutes Lisanna so that she can pay for her groceries and ridiculous amount of eggnog. What was she even thinking?

 

“I thought about clothes but you know how he is about those,” she explains as the automatic doors click open for her. A blast of icy wind hits her in the face, sending cold racing down her spine. “And you  _ know _ it has to be practical or he won’t use it. Guy can’t keep sentimentals for the life of him.”

 

_ “What about a blender?” _

 

“A blender.”

  
  
_ “..Yea. A blender. I got Elfman one a few years ago. Like a nice one! Elfman uses it for his protein smoothies.” _

 

Lucy chuckled.  _ A blender, huh… _

 

She wasn’t sure Gray would use a blender like Elfman did, but that gave for another idea. 

 

_ Shaved ice machine. That’s perfect. _

 

Lucy clicked her tongue. “Thank you Lisanna i’m gonna get him a shaved ice maker!”

 

_ “A what?”  _ comes the distorted reply. “ _Shaved ice?”_

 

“Yea! It’s perfect! he loves cold things.”

 

_ “I suppose. Are you getting your other friends anything?” _

 

“What, like Erza and Levy? Of course!”

 

_ “No, not them, I know you get them presents. I mean your sabertooth friends. Rogue.” _

 

“Ooh…” She hadn’t actually heard from them since the party. “I’ll get Sting something since he’ll probably get me something. I wonder what those lovebirds are doing for christmas? 

 

"Probably smooching.”

 

“Hm. I hope. Do they ever seem awkward to you? Like they don’t know what to do around eachother?” There’s a cold pause and Lucy shivers against the breeze. It’s probably going to snow again.

 

_“Yea. that’s natural with new couples though!”_

 

“New?? They’ve been dating for six months, apparently. They should be over that.”

 

_ “Going slow?”  _ Lisanna suggests.

 

“Going slow for six months? Please.”

 

_ “Yea you’re right. Maybe they’re gonna break up.” _

 

Lucy zipped up her jacket tighter, almost sliding on a patch of black ice. “I hope not! They’re cute.”

 

_ “Cute? Sting seems smelly.” _

 

Lucy snorts so hard she almost slips on the ice again. “Smelly? He’s not smelly. Rogue is smelly.”

 

“Rogue isn’t smelly! He’s just goth. I would know, I was one” Lisanna chuckles. Lucy decides that her laugh sounds like falling snow. Sharp and pleasant and melts again her ears. She likes it a lot. Lisanna kind of looks like snow too, with her pale eyes and frosty hair. She isn’t cold though. She’s the warmest person Lucy has ever known. 

 

“You were goth?” it’s hard to imagine pretty bright Lisanna donned in dark clothing and even darker makeup. She’s such a happy, cheerful person now, and goths are usually...not that. Lucy has met some goths and they were... definitely not Lisanna. Lucy’s face contorts trying to imagine a Lisanna that isn’t so cheerful and kind and pretty and caring and friendly and _wow_ , now she’s just listing things she likes about her! 

 

Lucy switches thoughts. She’s gonna buy Gray a shaved ice machine and he’s going to love it. 

 

_ “Is he now?” _   
  


Shit, that was out loud. 

 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t he enjoy some shaved ice that he can use whenever he wants, for free?” Lucy glances out right as she realizes she passed the store a block down. Quickly backtracking to get to it, she hastily told Lisanna “I’ve gotta go or i’m never going to find this machine and I bet you don’t want to hear me scrambling around a store for an hour.”

 

_“I wouldn’t mind,_ ” Lisanna chirps with a lightness in her voice. _“But i better leave you to it. Good luck, Lucy! I’ll see you tonight?”_

 

“Yea. 6pm work for you?” the automatic doors opened with a quiet  _ woosh.  _ Lucy steps into a large warehouse-like store illuminated by artificial lights. A confirming sound from Lisanna and then the call ends, leaving Lucy alone with the rest of her christmas shopping. 

 

Maybe she _should_ get Sting and Rogue something…

  
  
  
  
  


In the end she decides on a joint present — they are a couple, after all — of mugs shaped like hearts with snowy decorations. They have some cheesy christmas love saying on them but Lucy does not care enough to read it. She knows they’re both going to hate it and she is going to Love it. 

 

She pays for her lovely christmas mugs and her shaved ice machine which they wrap at the store and she takes them home to shove under the coffee table because they’re college students they don’t have a  _ christmas tree! _

 

Also because Natsu would burn it down. No one understands how or why he does it, but it happens. 

 

Lisanna appears, ringing the doorbell and wearing the ugliest christmas sweater lucy has ever seen in her life. Lisanna sees her face and cackles like a witch. “Do you like it?? Mirajane bought it for me! It’s hideous.”

 

“It..really is.” Lucy agrees, making a face. “Let me get you some eggnog.” She floats back into the kitchen, pulling out one of the five containers of eggnog. 

 

Lisanna’s eyes light up like a christmas decoration. “Yes please yes please yes please!!” She scoots around the corner of the counter, practically bouncing on the spot. “Oohhhh I haven’t had this since last year!”

 

Lucy quickly pours a glass for Lisanna and then one for herself. Lisanna takes the glass before Lucy can even offer it to her and sucks down a gulp. “God that’s so good.”

 

Lucy chuckles, sipping her own glass. “Truly a christmas miracle.”

 

A door bangs open violently. Gray Fullbuster comes crashing into the kitchen, already looking completely wasted. He’s not wearing pants. “Oh. It’s you.” He points at Lisanna. 

 

“Hi.” says Lisanna, whose gaze flickers to his bare legs and back up. She takes another sip of her eggnog. Gray squints his eyes at it. 

 

“What are you doing.”

 

“Eggnog.” Lucy explains, waving the container at him. “Want any?”

 

“Sure. Just a little bit though. I haven’t had it in a while and I don’t know if I like it. What’s in it?”

 

She frowns. “Uhhh Milk, sugar, Eggs, obviously… and spices but I don’t know which ones.”

 

“Nutmeg?” Lisanna supplies. 

 

Gray pours himself a little and peers at it like it’s a science concoction. “What’s it taste like?”

 

“Like sweet milk and spices? I don’t know.”

 

He sniffs it. “Yea but what does that mean? Spices? That doesn’t help.” He tentatively sips it. 

 

“So?” Lisanna asks him, eyebrow raised.

 

“It tastes like spices.” Gray replies, making a tired face. He pours more into his cup. Lucy snorts bubbles into her cup.

 

“Where’s Natsu?” Lisanna asks, already reaching for a refill. 

 

Lucy pushes the container over to her. “Probably stuck in his room like last year. He locked himself in.” she looks at Gray for confirmation. 

 

“He didn’t lock himself in this year,” Gray replies. There’s a beat of silence and then he elaborates further with a grin splitting across his face. “ _ I  _ locked him in there. With a chair.”

 

“FULLSBUSTER” Lucy screeches, spitting eggnog all over herself. “You can’t just lock him in there! He’s drunk!  _ He’s going to kill himself!”  _ but she’s laughing anyway.

 

Gray just takes another sip of his eggnog with a smug look in his eyes. “At least he’ll be contained.”

 

Lucy can’t argue with that point.

 

Lucy makes Gray untrap natsu, while she and Lisanna decorate the house in mistletoe. freeing Natsu should only take a moment, but it’s Gray, so the minute the door opens Natsu is barreling out and putting Gray into a headlock. The entire scene collapses into violent chaos as the boys begin roughhousing. Lucy ignores them and prompts Lisanna to do the same.

 

Eventually all the decorations (and plenty of mistletoe) are distrubuted around the house. Lucy calls for Gray and Natsu. “Boys, come on. We’re watching Scrooged, don’t stay in there,” and turns up the tv volume for good measure.

 

**Bang!** Natsu’s door slams open and he tumbles out, Gray close behind. Lucy grins at Lisanna as they freeze, glancing in front of them at the mistletoe hanging inches away. “Careful~” She calls to them. “Don’t wanna get stuck with eachother, do you?”

 

“GROSS,” replies Natsu, very politely and also really sober. “FUCK YOU, HEARTFILIA.”

 

Lucy just cackles.

 

“Very mature,” Gray adds. He backs up for good measure, letting Natsu through first. 

 

“We’ve rigged the entire house!” Lisanna’s eyes are absolutely gleaming with mischievous lights. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll have to kiss eachother!” to punctuate her point, she makes  _ Mwah, Mwah!  _ noises. Gray wrinkles his nose, carefully making note of the placements as he approaches the couch. It’s the only safe zone, it appears. 

 

“What about you two? You aren’t excused from the rules of mistletoe, you know.”

 

“ _ I’ve  _ kissed you  _ plenty  _ of times,” Lucy waves a finger at him, a bottle of beer half empty in her hand. 

 

Gray just stares at her. “I meant you and Lisanna.” 

 

Lucy makes an ‘ _ o’  _ face and looks over at Lisanna, who just stares at her back. Neither of them say anything, for a moment. “We’ll be careful!” Lucy responds, finally.

 

Natsu groans at them, stretched out on the couch. “Hey. Shut the fuck up. Jim Carrey is about to get visited by his dead grandpa.” 

 

 

Halfway into the movie, the doorbell rings. “Naaaaatsuuuuu can you get thaaaaaaaaaaaaat? it’s Erza.” Lucy pushes Natsu off the couch with her foot. He hits the ground and doesn’t move. “Please Natsu? I’m comfortable. and you’re already off the couch, see?”

 

Natsu pulls himself to his feet. “I will kill you one day, Heartfilia.”

 

Lucy just laughs and leans against Lisanna. “He’s so wasted.” 

 

Despite the threat, Natsu opens the door for Erza. “We’re watching scrooged,” he explains.

 

Erza’s voice comes clear across the apartment. “An excellent movie, though I would’ve gone for a classic, like Love, Actually—“

 

“Hi, Erza,” calls Lisanna.

 

“Oohh! Lisanna, i never see you here! How are your siblings, why aren’t you with them?” She shrugs off her coat. 

 

Lisanna smiles weakly. “Didn’t want to fifth wheel.”

 

“She wanted to hang out with Luuuucy,” Natsu translates and earns a stink eye in reply. 

 

_“Ah,”_ says Lucy, jumping at her name. Lisanna goes tense. “Erza, _wait,_ ”

 

Erza stops just as she and Natsu cross under a gorgeous trim of mistletoe. “Ah.” says Lucy again, quieter. 

 

“Fuck,” says Natsu. “’m not doing this, Erza’s got a  _ boyfrien _ —“

 

“Coward,” says Erza in a hard voice, and dips Natsu with a kiss. Then she drops him on the floor. The entire apartment is silent for a moment, and then Gray chokes on his alcohol from laughter.

 

“GROSS, Erza cooties!” He gasps just as Gray topples off the side of the couch cackling. 

 

“You think this is funny, Fullbuster?” Erza strides across the room and picks Gray up by his necklace. “It’s a christmas  _ tradition. _ ” For good measure, she kisses him as well. Lucy promptly shoves half of her sweater in her mouth to stop her laughter, while Lisanna just stares, slack jawed.

 

“Hello Lucy, thank you for inviting me.” Erza sits on the couch beside her. Lucy nods, her face bright red from the effort of keeping in her giggles. 

 

“YOU GOT KISSED BY ERZA,” Natsu hollers, pointing a finger at Gray and laughing like a moron. 

 

“Shut up, so did you, idiot!”

 

Immediately Gray and Natsu are back to tackling eachother. Lucy sighs and leans into Lisanna, expression tired but warm. “i’m glad you joined us this year,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

 

Lisanna felt her cheeks flush. “Same.”  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 15 is halfway written! Which means, hopefully, it'll be out faster !


	15. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want you for my own  
> More than you could ever know  
> Make my wish come true  
> All I want for Christmas is you, yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Baby
> 
> I know two months is still a long time but its better than the last 5/6 month pauses yea? yea.

And just like that, it was christmas. Almost as soon as Skiadrum departed, Christmas arrived with the full force of the holidays. 

 

“Wakey wakey! Come see what Santa brought!” Something lands on Rogue’s stomach. He peers at the wrapped box sitting on his blankets. Gently, he reaches out for it. Sting immedaitely snatches it back up. “Pancakes first!” In a swoop, he’s gone and thudding down the small hallway to the kitchen. 

 

Rogue yawns and sits up. It’s still dark outside, but Rogue thinks he can see snow falling. Tentatively, he crawls out of bed. Cold air makes all his hairs stand up on end as he leaves the safety of the blankets. 

 

Pancakes are a tradition in Sting and Rogue’s life. Skiadrum has always made pancakes, and Rogue has just carried it with him after he left home. Sting adopted it too after he started spending christmas with the Cheneys in eighth grade. 

 

The kitchen feels fake when he enters it. The light is harsh and makes the shadows dark. “What time is it?”

 

Sting is pulling flour from the cupboard. “Dunno, look at the clock?”

 

The clock reads 6:23. Am. Rogue turns around and crawls straight back into bed. He hears Sting follow him, but he’s really too tired to care. 

 

“ _ Pancaaakes…. _ ” Sting whines, following him to his bed. “It’s traditionnnn!!”

 

“It’s not tradition to wake up at 6am. Call me in a couple hours.” he rolls over, smothering himself in his blankets. 

 

Sting is quiet, and then suddenly he’s pulling at Rogue’s sheets. “But it’s christmas,” he’s whining, trying to yank at the covers. Rogue grips them tighter in response. Sting keeps pulling and pulling. Rogue reaches out and grabs his arm, catching Sting off guard and dragging him into the bed. Sting squawks like a pigeon and attempts to escape, but Rogue is faster. Latching onto Sting, he locks his best friend into an awkward embrace. Sting grunts indignantly and struggles, but his position is too awkward for him to find any leverage. He relaxes in defeat, Rogue grumbles a victorious “goodnight” to which the only reply is a heavy sigh as he closes his eyes. 

 

“Fine. an hour,” Sting mumbles.

 

❅❅❅

 

Three hours later, Rogue opens his eyes to the bright light coming from his window and a heavy weight across his torso. Sting is breathing slowly into his shoulder. Rogue’s chest  _ immediately  _ goes into hyperdrive when he realizes. He can’t move and he’s not sure he wants to, even over the combined heat of the blankets and the boy on top of them that are roasting him alive. 

 

He stares at the ceiling, trying to relax, to control his body, which wants him to breath in startled, uneven gasps. He blinks, eyes wide, wondering  _ when _ it got this bad for him. Sting  _ snrks  _ lightly against his skin. Rogue’s breath hitches. He twitches, carefully moving his leg into a more comfortable position. Sting stirs. Wide eyed, he watches as the blonde wakes up slowly. Sting rubs his eyes, drawing in a wet breath. It’s not attractive in the slightest, but Rogue still has to fight back an embarrassed grin crawling onto his face. Sting blinks at him with half-lidded eyes, then at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Ah.” he says.

 

“Merry Christmas.” say Rogue, grinning thinly. They look at each other, faces only inches apart. Rogue gaze flickers to Sting lips, and for a moment, realizes how  _ easy— _

 

Sting scoffs and throws himself off the bed, pulling the covers off with him. Rogue, previously in a cocoon of heat, gasps at the sudden bite of freezing air. Sting is already disappearing around the doorframe, and so he swallows a sense of disappointment and rolls his eyes instead. Tradition time, he supposes. 

 

As he enters the kitchen for the second time that morning, it’s clear that his best friend isn’t planning to waste any time with making breakfast. Utensils clank loudly as he pulls things from the cupboards with a speed unlike any other. Rogue watches, unsure what to do. “Uhhh.” 

 

“Oh, you want to make sausages? Your dad left some in the fridge.” Sting grips the flour bag too tightly and a plume of white substance explodes into the air and all over his clothes. Rogue blinks at him. “Sure.”

 

It’s still snowing outside, coming down in massive, thick flakes. Rogue stands there in the kitchen for a while, transfixed by the motion. He watches and watches until the stove clicks to life and a pan clanks and starts to sizzle. He blinks his attention down, staring at the batter on the pan. Sting sticks his tongue out at him and the world comes rushing back into place. “Oh, right.”

 

He pulls out another pan, buttering it and clicking on the gas stove. Sting hums a tune beside him, offkey and offbeat. Rogue pays no mind, finding the sausages that his father left over and throwing them into the pan, along with a few spices for taste. They may have been free sausages but they were pretty cheap ones. 

 

Sting flips the pancakes onto a plate. Some of them look a bit burnt, and he tries to make smiley faces on others, to no avail. Rogue thinks they look a bit deformed. When he points that out to Sting, Sting just bumps him with his hip and tells him to  _ “Love their children, even if they’re ugly! I do!” _

 

Rogue shuts up pretty fast after that. He hopes Sting doesn’t notice.

 

The batter runs out quicker than Rogue expected. He’s cooked all the sausage and had moved onto setting the table for the two of them and playing some fitting christmas music. There’s a few cheesy love songs slipped in, and for once in his life, he gives the lyrics some mind. They’re absolutely sappy. He thinks he might enjoy that. It’s a first. He’s going through a lot of firsts, he supposes. Sting rocks his shoulders and claps the plate of pancakes onto the table. “Breakfast is ready!” he declares, and then breaks back into singing along under his breath. 

 

God, does he even realize the  _ words  _ he’s saying? Rogue’s heart scampers when he connects the lyrics with Sting’s voice, cheerfully singing along. This is absolutely ridiculous, and it’s making him feel very warm and light. He likes it, he thinks. 

 

The pancakes are undercooked, in places. Gooey insides slip out when he breaks into them with his knife, sticky and sweet. They’re almost preferable like this, he’d rather have them wet than dry.

 

Sting is eating at an incredible rate, shoving pancake after pancake onto his plate. He’s already had a few sausages as well. Rogue watches him with morbid delight. In the time he’s had three, Sting has had seven. It’s a spectacle to behold.

 

Rogue butters his fourth and carefully pours syrup on it, then cuts his sausage and dips some of that in the syrup. It’s spicy and salty and sweet and  _ oh so Delicious.  _

 

Sting gets up while he’s mulling over the lyrics of  _ winter wonderland,  _ and disappears. He drops some wrapped boxes on the table before Rogue even comprehends that he got up from the table.

 

“Present time!” he tells Rogue, eyes shining. Making a non-commital noise, Rogue points at his unfinished pancakes, to which Sting rolls his eyes. “You can eat and open presents.”

 

“Sticky.” Rogue replies, lifting a hand. 

 

Sting just rolls his eyes further. “Who cares?”

 

“Fine.” he reaches for the present on the top. It’s wrapped in unfamiliar paper, and of no discernable weight. He grunts in surprise, turning it over, looking for the note.  _ From your loving father. To both of you.  _ Ah. Wait.

 

Rogue hands it to Sting, prompting him to open it, and then taking another bite of his pancakes. “To both of us.”

 

Sting hums. “Oh, really?” He pries the tape off, and the sound of crinkling paper is heard. “Oh my god.”

 

“What is it?”

 

Sting just wordlessly hands the box to Rogue. Rogue takes it and peers inside. 

 

At first glance, it seems to be just a box of trinkets. A mug for each of them, matching ties, some chocolates, two necklaces… those catch rogue’s attention. He pulls them out. 

 

They’re two hearts made of polished wood that fit together. Engraved in the wood is  _ True Love Forever~  _ in fancy writing. Rogue stares. And then he stares some more. 

 

“Why.”

 

Sting cracks up, doubling over. “Look at it!” He takes it from Rogue’s hands, holding it in the air. “True Love Forever! This is absolutely the cheesiest thing i’ve ever seen. Skiadad’s incredible. Absolutely incredible. Do you think he’s  _ serious?” _ __   
  


“Yes,” Rogue grits out, unable to fight his own grin. “This is so stupid.”

 

Sting laughs again, unclipping one and pulling it around his neck. “What’re you  _ doing?”  _ Rogue watches him, confused. He was  _ just  _ mocking these. Sting just laughs again and pulls the other one around Rogue’s neck. Rogue grunts and pulls away, but not fast enough. The lock clicks and suddenly he has a little puzzle piece heart around his neck. 

 

“Please, just for now. These are so funny!” Sting is cracking up again. He reaches into the box and pulls out the mugs. “Oh god, everything is like that!” the cups are plastered with  _ I love you  _ and  _ I love you more <3  _ on the other. Rogue makes a face. 

 

Sting’s still laughing, so Rogue pulls out the next wrapped gift. He blinks at it for a moment and then remembers that it’s his gift for Sting. He stands and shoves it into Sting’s arms, pausing the boy’s hysterics. “For you.” he tells him.

 

Sting takes it, going quiet. “Ooh.” He inspects the package, turning it over. “It’s heavy.” 

 

“Yea,” Rogue replies, scraping his pancakes into his mouth. For a moment he debates licking the plate clean, but he has more tack than that. Hopefully, anyway.

 

“Oh,” says Sting, quieter. “Oh wow.”

 

He holds up the ball of jasper stone. “Wow.” He rolls it around in his hands. “This is so pretty.”   
  


Rogue fidgets, embarrassed and pleased all at once. “I was worried you had jasper rocks.”

 

“I do,” Sting says, and then sees Rogue’s look. “But it’s not like two rocks are the same. Wow, I really like this one. It looks like an angry jupiter.” he keeps turning it over. 

 

Rogue smiles at his hands. Sting puts down the rock. “Dude,” he says, and then says it again.  _ “Dude.” _ __   
  


Rogue looks up and Sting pulls him in. For a moment, he hovers, looking Rogue in the face, eyes flickering over him. Waiting for something — hesitating. Rogue leans his head forward without thinking, vision unfocusing just a little, eyes starting to get heavy. “I love..it.” Sting inches closer, and then something in the air snaps and he jumps, pulling Rogue into a rough hug. “I love it,” he repeats, squeezing him tighter, “best gift.” Rogue doesn’t say anything. He feels a little unreal.  _ What just happened? _

 

Sting pulls away. “Okay, open your gift from me! It’s not as cool but it’s still nice.”

 

Rogue snorts, lightly. He takes the gift from Sting’s hands.

 

It’s a bunch of clothes, and a blanket. “Comfy clothes,” Sting explains. “Your sweatpants are falling to pieces, so i got you some new ones. They’re super soft.”

 

Rogue looks and finds the sweatpants. He runs the fabric through his fingers and Sting is right, they do feel soft. There’s also a red hoodie with a dragon on the front, and a pair of gloves and matching hat. Everything is soft to the touch and looks well made. “Thank you.” he smiles at Sting. “These are really nice.”

 

Sting grins at him. “Try them on, try them on!” he pulls Rogue out of his seat. Rogue grunts but scoots off to his room to put on the pants and sweater. 

 

They  _ are  _ soft. Extremely warm, too. He stands for a bit, just feeling the fabric on his skin. Sting’s going to be very happy to hear that he picked something so good. 

 

For a moment, Rogue imagines Sting trying it on, wearing his new hoodie—

 

He shakes his head and races to join Sting.

 

They spend the rest of the day watching christmas movies together. Sting comments on how soft it is, taking a corner of the fabric into his hands as Rogue comes out. Then they settle on the couch, and neither of them feel like they need to address the fact that they’re nestled together so naturally. Rogue’s glad for that. He’s worried that if he addresses it, Sting will pull away. 

 

☃☃☃

 

Every year, Sting and Rogue make pancakes and open presents. Every year, they watch christmas movies or play a video game together. Every year, Yukino comes to make dinner with them. This year is no different. At 5 o’clock, Yukino is ringing the doorbell. Sting huffs from where he sits and jumps up to get it, leaving a cold spot on Rogue’s side. 

 

Yukino has a small bag of gifts when she comes in the door, knocking the snow off her boots at the entrance. “Merry christmas!” she says a little breathelessly, cheeks red from the cold. 

 

“Merry christmas,” Rogue replies, still mourning the warmth that Sting provided. “How was your morning, Yukino?”

 

He’s surprised to see the bashful look on her face. “Minerva dropped by,” she admitted slowly, to Sting’s absolute delight. “It was...nice.”

 

“Where is she now?” Sting asks, unwrapping Yukino from her cacoon of witner clothes. Yukino  _ eeps  _ as he smoothly unzips her jacket in one movement and pulls it off her shoulders. “Did she give you a present?”

 

“Y—yea,” Yukino nods her head, coming to join Rogue on the couch. “Just a small one! It wasn’t a big deal. Rogue can you take this?” she holds out the bag. Rogue silently reaches out and takes it from her. He peaks inside and sees some delicately wrapped gifts. He smiles and puts the bag on the coffee table next to his and Sting’s presents for Yukino. Sting is still grilling Yukio, making her tell him what the present was and how long she stayed. Minerva is long gone, according to Yukino. She had something to do. The look on her face suggests that it had to do with her recently passed father. Neither boy pushes it.

 

They sit in a mellow silence until Yukino reaches over and pulls a present from her bag. She hands it to Rogue. “Should.. Should we open these? That one is for you.” 

 

“Thank you,” says Rogue and opens it. It’s a box of things to help organize his desk — little pen holders, sticky notes, drawer organizers. “Oh — wow. Thank you.” 

 

He  _ had  _ mentioned needing things to help his messy desk. He’s mostly surprised that she remembered. He reaches over and pulls her into a hug. Yukino happily returns it. 

 

Next he reaches onto the coffee table and passes her the present he got her. Her face lights up when she sees the little moonstones and zodiac book. “Oh! This is so perfect. Thank you, Rogue!”

 

Rogue smiles back at her, pleased that he got something she liked. 

 

Sting and Yukino exchange gifts next — Yukino got Sting some personalized mugs and some fun kitchen accessories. Sting loves the mugs, especially the heat-activated ones. 

 

Sting got Yukino a handful of gorgeous hair accessories and some nail polish that changes with the light, as well as a soft scarf. Yukino gushes in delight and immediately disappears to try on some of the new hair pieces. 

 

They finish the movie together, all wrapped up in the blanket off of Sting’s bed. When the credits roll, Yukino slips out and immediately starts to make dinner. Rogue is quick to join her. Sting hides under the covers and pretends to be asleep. He has to be dragged out by his legs. 

 

Halfway through dinner prep, Sting’s phone lights up. He reaches for it and his eyes flicker over the message that he got. He hands it to Rogue wordlessly. Rogue skims the notification.

 

**From: Lulu ★:** new yrs party!!!! Bring ur bf! Starts @ 6 the boys r gonna get WAAASTEDDD. See u then! P.s: karaoke again

 

Rogue raises his eyebrows. Another party? How much schoolwork did those fairies even  _ do?  _ He hands Sting’s phone back. Sting raises his eyebrows back. “Dating?” he mouths. He’s asking if they plan to keep up the charade. Rogue’s heart beats. 

 

“Easier than explaining a break up,” he replies.

 

Both of them know that they could easily explain a breakup if they needed to. Rogue knows it. Rogue knows that Sting knows it. But Sting’s eyes just light up in response to Rogue’s words. “Cool,” he says. “Still dating.”


End file.
